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c I PRINTED : — OLDER CHILDREN DO THE SAME," 



BALTIMORE: 

o 
PRINTED BY JOSEPH ROBINSON. 

1S36. 

C 



No pretensions are put forth for the present vo- 
lume beyond the title which is given to it. The 
little pieces which compose it, were written in earlier 
life, and were mostly published in the journals of 
the day : — and they are now collected, and tied in a 
bundle together, in this more enduring form, not so 
much for their worth, as for a memento of the author 
for his personal friends. 



;<r? 



7? 



CONTENTS. 



A Prayer, .... 






9 


Solitude, ..... 




11 


Sunset, ..... 






13 


Friendship, . . . , .1 






15 


A Prayer, .... 






17 


To Hope, ..... 






19 


The Widow's Soliloquy, 






20 


A Spring- Morning', " 
Sympathy : Song, 






23 






25 


Ossian's Address to the Moon, 






26 


Ode for Washington's Birth Day, 






28 


To A. H. S., .... 






30 


Dreaming, 






32 


Ode for the Fourth of July, 






34 


Lines on leaving Chester County, 






36 


Sympathy, ..... 
Mary Ann, .... 






38 
39 


Religion, ..... 






41 


Song : Caroline, 






43 


Belinda, ..... 






45 


Horace : Epode II, . 






47 


To Cornelia, .... 






50 


New Year's Address for 1823, . 






53 


Song : Ellen, .... 






56 


Adieu, ..... 






. 58 


To the memory of William Armstrong, Jr., 






60 


A Sketch, .... 






63 


To Greece, ..... 






65 


To the memory of Charles M. T , 






67 


Invitation : Song, .... 






69 


Sonnet to the Old Willow, 






71 


Sonnet II, 






72 


Sonnet to Hope, 
Valedictory Stanzas, 






73 






74 



S CONTENTS. 




A Night Piece, .... 


a, 


Lines to Oliver Matthews, . 


79 


lanes on those who fell,. 12 Sept, 1 K 1 t 


81 


Stanzas, . .... 


83 


Sonnet to the Old Willow, 


85 


Sonnet II, ..... 


86 


To Spain, ....... 


87 


To the memory of Eliza T , 


89 


Autumn, . . 


91 


Memory, ...... 


91 


Woman, ..... 


97 


To J. B 


99 


To Cornelia, ..... 


103 


To the memory of Margaret Dukehart, . 


ID.-, 


Song-, . . . . 


107 


To Cornelia, ..... 


109 


To Cornelia, ..... 


111 


Night, ...... 


113 


Sonnet to the Old Willow, 


115 


Sonnet II, 


116 


Stanzas, ...... 


117 


To Gulielma, ..... 


119 


To J. B 


121 


Retrospection, ..... 


123 


Music, ...... 


125 


To Cornelia, ..... 


127 


A Morning- Call, .... 


129 


Night, 


131 


To Eliza, ..... 


133 


Morning, ...... 


134 


To Mary, ..... 


136 


To Mira, ...... 


139 


Sonnet to the Old Willow, . 


144 


The Outcast, ..... 


145 


To my Cousin Lydia, . 


149 


To— 


154 


To the memory of Elizabeth Legget\ 


158 



'9 Wv&ytv. 



Deo. Op. Max. 

Oh, thou ! who reign'st above, Eternal cause 
Of all things, governed by thy mighty laws — 
Whose ways in darkness are conceal'd from men, 
Whose pow'r surpasses human art or ken, 
To thee, I kneel — thy goodness I implore — 
Thy bounty ask — thy Providence adore — 
Seen in thy works thro' all creation wide, 
In man, thine image, and in man thy pride — 
In heaven the stars careering thro' the sky, 
Declare the glory of the Lord most High. 
To thee the birds their vocal incense pay 
And greet with carols the revolving day — 
For thee, creation smiles in bloom around, — 
For thee, fresh flow'rs spring from the teeming ground,- 
At thy command, the fertile fields appear, 
Fresh clad in verdure, each succeeding year ; 
At thy command, the rain descends in show'rs 
And breathes fresh fragrance to the fields and flow'rs ; 
At thy command the stormy tempests blow, 
While cold descends the chilling hail and snow ; 
But when black clouds involve the gloomy sky, 
And beasts and birds, to seek a shelter, fly, 
When thro' the vault of heav'n the thunders roar, 
And lightnings flash along the dusky shore ; 
2 



10 A PRAYER. 

When trembles earth, as to its centre riven, 
Clouds upon clouds in dread confusion driven, 
'Tis then, thy glory stands disclosed the most, 
Our hearts in fear, in admiration lost ! — 
But when, at last, appears thy smiling Bow, 
And drooping- earth puts on a fresher glow. 
The birds sing- sweeter, then devoid of fright, 
And hail with rapture the returning light ; 
'Tis then thy mercy stands confest — thy pow'r 
We all acknowledge, worship and adore ! 

Shall noble man, cast in his Maker's mould, 
These scenes of awe indiff'rently behold ? — 
Forbid it Heaven ! — forbid it truth and love — 
But waft our souls in gratitude above 
To Thee, their author ! — Uncreated mind ! — 
Both Omnipresence and Omniscience joined ! — 
Oh ! may we to thy pow'r an off ring raise 
Of veneration, gratitude and praise — 
May we thro' life revere thy glorious cause, 
And yield obedience to thy holy laws ; 
And when the evening of our day shall close, 
May we, with prospect of a sure repose, 
Wind up our time — from toil and trouble cease, 

And gain admittance to Thy realms of peace ! 

There, may to Thee our praise and love grow stronger. 
When ages cease to roll, and Time shall be no longer ! 



goUtufte. 

How oft, since withdrawn from the world and its pleasures, 

Has fancy reverted her eyes on the past ; 
And found its gay scenes and its fast fading- treasures 

To be a delusion, a bubble at last, — 
Those sounds which so lately, when pleasure was glowing 1 

Enchanted each sense with their melody sweet, 
And left the glad soul quite in raptures o'erflowing 

Are heard with disdain in my lowly retreat — 

'Tis here, at a distance from noise and commotion, 

My time passes swiftly, and cheerfully by 
And my life, like the waves of a calm summer's ocean 

Is disturbed by no breezes, nor fanned by a sigh — 
The Regent of Day, in his splendor returning 

Re-gives to the morning, a glorious birth, 
And turns, (a sweet contrast! ) from darkness and mourning 

To light and to gladness, the face of the earth. 

'Tis here I can wander o'er glades and o'er mountains, 

While nature, in beauty, is smiling around, 
Or at noon, can repose, by the cool bubbling fountains 

Be fanned by the zephyrs, or lulled by their sound. 
And at eve, when my toils and my labors are ended, 

And Night does her curtain of darkness reclose, 
When Sol, has beneath the horizon descended, 

Can taste the pure blessings of balmy repose. 



12 SOLITUDE. 

'Tis here I can ponder on days now flown over, 

Review each delusion — " reflect — and be wisc"- 
And warned by the past, can in future discover 

Wherein the true secret of happiness lies — 
For life is at best, but a state of probation, 

And evils unnumbered encircle us round, 
And happy is he, who can find resignation 

To calm ev'ry sorrow and heal ev'ry wound ! 

Hail ! Solitude, hail ! may I find in thee ever, 

A comfort and solace when storms do impend, 
And oh ! may I love thee — deserting thee never — 

But own thee my refuge, protector, and friend- 
And holy Religion ! to thee, it is given 

To comfort and soothe us in trouble or wo, 
To raise the freed soul to enjoyment in Heaven, 

Where pleasures ecstatic eternally flow. 






How oft with the scene, when the Sun is descending 1 , 

And nature around, seems to sink in repose, 
Each chord of the heart is in unison blending", 

And calm, in its current, Devotion now flows — 
The mind, on the wings of devout contemplation, 

Soars high o'er the world, to its Author and Sire, 
Explores the great plan of heaven's mighty creation, 

Nor ceases to wonder, adore and admire ! 

And when he has sunk in the lap of the ocean, 

What feeling sublime and majestical rise ; 
What heart can perceive then, devoid of emotion, 

The glories of nature, portrayed in the skies — 
The clouds in the ether, to westward extending, 

With edges resplendently burnish'd with gold, 
And all into beautiful harmony blending, 

Present an appearance most grand to behold. 

But calm from the east, gentle Luna advancing, 

Soon changes fair nature from darkness to day — 
The stars in her train, are in ecstasy dancing, 

Their light near eclipsed in her powerful ray — 
She slowly progresses in majesty shining, 

And gilding with lustre, each valley and hill, 
On the lake's smooth expanse, now her beams are reclining 

Now lightly they dance on the murmuring rill ! 



14 



Oh cold is that heart and a stranger to feeling 

Who could, without rapture, these beauties survey ; 
Who could, on beholding, refrain from appealing 

To Him, the pure fountain of light and of day ! — 
To me, a Creator has graciously given, 

Both sight to behold, and a heart to admire, 
And when I contemplate his glories at even, 

I find myself lost in the blaze of their fire ! 



$vicnHf>ip* 

When wand'ring thro' this world of caxe 3 

How grateful 'tis to find 
A friend, with whom we bliss can share ; 

A sympathising- mind — 
One, who in ev'ry stage of wo, 

Will kind assistance lend ; 
Will soothe, if not avert the blow— 

A firm and faithful friend. 

To whom with joy we can unfold 

Each wish, each thought and pray'r— 
Nor rubies fine, nor sterling gold 

Can with this friend compare- 
On whose firm truth and honor bright. 

We can with faith depend, — 
Oh ! pure as is the morning light, 

Is such a faithful friend. 

Should I, while life is flowing fast, 

A friend like this espy, 
With time, our union firm should last, 

Nor yet with death should die — 
In that bright sky, which far above 

This narrow vale extends, 
United in unshaken love, 

We'd live forever friends. 



FRIENDSHIP. 

Hail Friendship ! soother of the soul ! 

Thou balm to ev'ry wo ! — 
Beneath thy gentle, calm control, 

Oh ! may I ever bow — 
Shine o'er me with thy placid rays, 

On me may they descend ; 
And loudly will I speak thy praise, 

United to a friend. 



& Draper, 

Pow'b supreme ! incline thine ear 
Deign a suppliant's voice to hear ; 
From, thy glorious throne, on high, 
Downward cast thine holy eye. 
View the crimes and faults of man, 
Him whose life is but a span : 
View — but oh ! thou God above, 
Pardon in thy matchless love ! — 
Man at best thou knowst is frail, 
Fickle as the autumn gale — 
Always wand'ring from thy way 
In the paths of vice to stray — 
By temptation lured aside, 
Oft he does thy truth deride, 
Oft he does from duty swerve, 
Nor thy high behests observe, 
Oft commits some dire offence, 
Wanderer from innocence ! — 
But do thou with gentle eye, 
All his faults and failings spy, 
Grant a portion of thy grace 
Unto all the human race, 
That to thee, they may return, 
Nor thy holy counsels spurn, 
That by him who died to quell 
The pow'r both of death and hell. 



18 A PRAYER. 

By him, salvation may be found 
By treading- on repentant ground, 
While here below, a life of love 
And endless bliss with thee above ! — 
Then, then, oh Lord ! to thee be given 
The glory both in earth and heaven ! — 
May we, while tenanted in clay, 
With holy fear thy law obey, 
And when released from mortal wo, 
The awful change we underg-o, 
In glory bright beyond the skies, 
Where blooming- virtue never dies, 
May we the g-lorious anthem sing 
Of " Praise to thee, Eternal King !" — 
For unto thee, oh Lord ! be given 
The glory both in earth and Heaven ! 



®o fgope* 



While thro' this world of pleasure and of pain, 
Where joys and sorrows in succession reign, 
We all are hast'ning to our common doom. 
The sleep of death, the silence of the tomb, — 
'Tis thine, oh Hope ! to gild our path thro' life, 
And soothe the woes with which our state is rife, — 
'Tis thine to cheer the wretched under toil, 
And all their sorrows, and their pains beguile — 
'Tis thine to lift the good man's eyes to heaven, 
To bless the lot, which, here to him was given — 
'Tis thine when sickness spreads her reign of gloom, 
To scatter darkness, and the mind illume — 
'Tis thine in ev'ry stage of human wo, 
To soothe the ill, or mitigate the blow — 
And when pale Death advancing seems to stand, 
And high in air, to lift his fatal hand, 
When conscious that our earthly race is run, 
'Tis thine, to say " Oh may thy will be done !" — 
'Tis thine to lead us from this scene of cares, 
And point to worlds, far, far beyond the stars ! 



Whence this gloom around me stealing 1 ?- 
Whence these feelings which prevail ? 

Joy is now her face concealing-, 

Sorrow tells her mournful tale ! — 

He who late in manhood beaming, 
Flourish'd fair to ev'ry eye, 

Firm in health and vigor seeming, 
Bloomed and ripened, but to die ! 

Borne in safety o'er the billow, 
Quick to me he bent his way ; 

But, returning, found a pillow 
On his native kindred clay. 

When his soul was just retiring 

When his dim eyes beam'd in death., 

When he lay in peace expiring, 

Bless'd me with his latest breath. 

" Oh," he cried, when life was closing, 
" But for thec, I sweetly end, 

<c Who, when on my turf reposing, 

" Who will be thy constant friend?— 



THE WIDOW'S SOLILOQUY. 21 

" Oh the thought my heart is paining-, 

" Who will shelter thee from ill ? — 
" Cease my soul, oh cease complaining 1 , 

" Bow before his holy will ! 

" He who has declared, he never 

" Will the fatherless desert, 
" He will be thy friend forever, 

" He will shelter thee from hurt, 

" Cease to weep, that I am going, 

" Joys celestial hover nigh, 
" Now, on thee my boon bestowing, 

" Nought have I to do, but die ! 

Thus he spoke in broken numbers — 

Thus he did his mind disclose — 
Sinking soon in peaceful slumbers, 

Far he fled from human woes ! 

Then with anguish agonizing, 

Senseless by his corse I lay, 
But the morrow's sun arising, 

Saw him torn from me away- 

Grief intense at last subsided, 

Sorrow pale o'erspread my cheeks— 

I, to her, my woes confided, 

Oft in tears she freely speaks. 

Oh ! my loss is felt severely, 

More than human tongue can tell; 
3 



22 THE WIDOW'S SOLILOQ.UY. 

He, whom ah ! I lov'd too dearly, 
Stay — support — protector, fell ! 

Thou, the wretched ne'er forsaking-, 
Aid me, calmly to resign! 

For when human hearts are aching, 
Human bosoms will repine ! — 

Often when descending even 

Casts around her silent gloom, 

Calling on his shade in Heaven, 
Will I wander by his tomb. 

There in mournful contemplation 
I my sadness will beguile, 

Fancy- soothing meditation, 

Shall her efforts lend the while. 

Tho' in peace he's gone before me, 
Tho' his, griefs and sorrows close, 

Hope still sheds her influence o'er me, 
That ere long I shall repose, 

Where both pain and wo excluded 
Then, no more disturb the breast, 

Where a pang has ne'er intruded, 
Where the weary are at rest. 

Haste the hour when I shall meet him, 
When the veil is cast aside — 

How I long in bliss to greet him 
And with him for aye abide. 



WL Whig jftotmng* 

How g-lorious the morning- !— 

How grand to behold, 
The skies all illumined 

With purple and gold — 
As Phoebus advancing-, 

Dispenses his rays, 
Presenting- to Fancy 

The skies in a blaze. 

The birds sweetly warbling- 

In field and in grove, 
Are chanting- symphoniou3 

Their voices of love — 
The lark lofty soaring 1 , 

The herald of morn, 
Is ush'ring- in joyful 

The day newly born. 

At an hour so sacred 

How pleasant to rove, 
Thro' each verdant meadow, 

And cool shady grove— 
To view the rich beauties, 

On every side, 
Which lie to perception 

Expanded and wide. 



24 A SPRING MORNING. 

What lofty reflections, 

Now press on the mind, 
Of an author all gracious 

Eternal, and kind — 
Sure the heart must be callous, 

To feeling" be void, 
To gaze on such scenes, with 

A mind unenjoyed ! 

Hail gratitude holy ! — 

To thee it is given 
To raise us from earth, to 

A foretaste of heaven — 
At thy shrine, may I ever 

In lowliness kneel, 
Thy virtues to practise, 

Thy potency feel ! 



Air—" Soldier's Return." 

Say, shall the heart indulge in joy, 

While all around are mourning ?— - ■ 
Oh ! no far distant be the thought, 

Be joy to sorrow turning — 
There is in souls a secret chain, 

Which ay should keep thegither, 
Which, soft as dew of Hermon's mount, 

Binds us to ane anither. 

Be mine the pride, and glory too, 

To keep wi' a' united, 
Then shall my days in pleasure flow, 

And I, by nane be slighted — 
Oh Sympathy ! to thee I owe 

The maist o' a' my pleasures, 
From thy rich fount does constant flow 

A stream o' balmy treasures. 



<&wiaxC& Sltffims to tje ifttooiu 



Daughter of Heav'n who gild'st the mountains brow 

When day retires, — how beautiful art thou ! — 

With speed unno+iced thou pursuest thy race, 

And pleasant is the silence of thy face ! — 

Thou comest forth in all thy beauty drest, 

The stars attend thy footsteps to the west ; 

The clouds, oh Moon ! rejoice when thou art near, 

And in thy presence, beautiful appear, 

Their dark brown sides are brightened by thy face 

As pale, thro' Heaven, they onward wend their race, 

Daughter of Night ! in yonder silent spheres, 

Who is there, that to thee resemblance bears ? — 

The stars ashamed, avert their sparkling eyes, 

And to thy beauty humbly yield the prize — 

When dark thy face becomes, as if with ire, 

Say whither dost thou, from thy course retire ? — 

Hast thou, like me, a hall, a dwelling made, 

Or dost thou live in grief or sorrow's shade ? — 

Or have thy Sisters fallen from above, 

The only objects of thy early love ? — 

Have they who once rejoiced with thee at even, 

Now left a void upon the clear blue heaven ?— 



ossian's address to the moon, i 

Yes, they, Fair Light ! have fallen — oft dost thou turn 

Thy course aside, and then retire to mourn — 

But thou thyself, shalt, one night, fall from high, 

And leave thy blue path in the azure sky — 

Then will the stars exulting raise their voice. 

And they, who once before thee, were ashamed, rejoice! 



c^tre for %ma$$imtotf$ BivtpBay, 



Air—" Hail to the Chief." 

I. 

Freemen rejoicing arouse from your slumbers, 

Twilight her empire is yielding- to Day, 
O'er the wide wurld, let the smooth glowing- numbers 
Join in full chorus with gratitude's lay — 

Rev'rently raise your eyes 

To the indulgent skies, 
Gladness and rapture pervading the earth, 

Then to its utmost bound 

Spread the enliv'ning sound, 
u Hallow'd the day that gave Washington birth." 

II. 

Ne'er while the earth on its axis is turning, 

Ne'er while the stars are revolving on high, 
Ne'er while the Sun in his splendor is burning, 
Washington's name in oblivion shall die. 

Rescued by Mem'ry's hand, 

Time shall his fame expand, 
Nations unborn, then abiding on earth, 

And on each natal day 

Oft will resound the lay — 
" Hallow'd the day that gave Washington birth." 



ode for Washington's birth-day, 29 

III. 

Freemen, united, grow stronger and stronger, 

Time does their union more firmly increase, 
Rigid oppressors, they worship no longer, 

Bless'd by kind Heaven with plenty and peace— 
Now, there no more remains 
Of rude oppression's chains, 
Freedom her banner waves wide o'er our earth, 
Then let this song arise, 
Reaching the spangled skies, 
"Hallow'd the day that gave Washington birth!" 

IV. 

Hail to the chieftain, in whom were united, 

Valor to conquer, and virtue to shine, 
Ne'er shall his name by his people be slighted, 
All to revere his great deeds shall combine — 

Then let our joy abound 

Ne'er let a man be found, 
In the wide sphere of our flourishing earth, 

Who, in so great a cause, 

Hails not with loud applause, 
( ' Hallow'd the day that gave Washington birth !" 



Co a. 



How often does Mem'ry with pleasure review, 

The scenes that we witnessed, when friendship was new, 

When free as the warblers that chant on the spray, 

Our time flew unheeded and swiftly away — 

Those days have too swiftly gone by, and each scene 

Is now to remembrance, a thing- that has been, 

Yet fancy reviews and oft makes them appear, 

As bright and as lovely, as tho' they were here — 

Oh Fancy ! how great is thy magical pow'r 

To soothe the sad soul in despondency's hour, 

To irradiate gloom, and recall back the day, 

When to sorrow, to sadness, or sickness a prey ! 

Oh ! ne'er be our cherish'd affection declining 
While friendship her wreaths round the heart is entwining", 
But may we still closer and stronger unite, 
'Till the bright eyes of youth set eternal in night ! — 
And oh ! that for thee could each wish be express'd 
With that ardor and fervor it glows in my breast ! — 
May prosperity's sunshine its beams round thee spread, 
And virtue's bright halo encircle thy head — 
May science diffuse her rich honors around, 
And thy days be with peace and tranquillity crown'd — 



TO A. H. 5. SI 

And when length of duration in being- below, 
Shall incline thee its pleasures and joys to forego, 
Mayst thou quit such a state of existence as this, 
And soar high above to the mansions of bliss ! — 
Are the wishes of Mm who till being shall end 
Will ever remain thy unchangeable friend. 



Humming* 



When fancy o'er my mind extends her reign, 
What glowing" visions do before me rise, 

What scenes long past does she renew again, 
To greet with wonder my admiring eyes. 

Sometimes a friend deceased before me stands, 
With hini in social converse do I join, 

And bound in holy Friendship's sacred bands, 
Unfold my mind in ev'ry op'ning line ; 

To him each latent thought do I disclose, 

And sweet responses crown my ardent pray'r ; 

Till waking from my short- liv'd sweet repose, 
I find each image vanish into air. 

Again, I wander o'er the dewy mead, 

And breathe the rising fragrance of the morn, 

With loit'ring steps incautkais I proceed. 

And pluck each rose without a rankling thorn. 

But soon again my pleasing course I turn, 
And wander devious by the torrent's roar, 

With step unmoved I hear the waters spurn, 
And hurl the foam impetuous to the shore. 



DREAMING. 3S 

Again the sky puts on a frown severe, 

And mutt'ring tempests gather o'er my head, 

The bursting thunders I with terror hear, 

And feel convulsed in ev'ry limb with dread. 

Trembling and pale I onward urge my flight,. 

With hasty footsteps from this scenery drear ; 
When lo ! I wake — the ruddy morning light, 

Dispels my terror, and becalms my fear ! 

Such, such, oh Fancy ! is thy fairy pow'r, 

When dark oblivion lulls our outward woes, 

To cheer and solace, or distress the hour, 

That wearied nature tastes her sweet repose. 



<©De iov tfte dFourtlj of 3JuU>, 



Air-" Hail to the Chief." 

I. 

Hallowed the day from the eastward advancing 

Long may it flourish, to memory dear, 
Bright, on its ether, the sunbeams are dancing, 
Cloudless its skies, and as chrystal as clear— 

Freemen ! come all rejoice, 

And with united voice, 
Raise your devotions to heaven on high ; 

Let us with one accord, 

Shout o'er the festive board, 
Birth day of freedom — the fourth of July ! 

II. 

Long may it flourish recorded in story, 

Handed in marble to nations unborn, 
Hail'd as the era of national glory — 

Hail'd as the birth of a rapturous morn. 
When, on that holy day 
From a rude despot's sway, 
Freemen united with firmness did fly, 
And o'er a joyful world, 
Shouted with flags unfurled, 
Birth day of freedom— the fourth of July ! 






ODE FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY, 35 

III. 

Where is the heart, but with transport is glowing" ?— 

Where is the mind but enraptured does feel ?— 
All are with gladness and bliss overflowing", 
All do their gratitude loudly reveal !— 
Warm'd, by a sacred flame, 
Loud they to all proclaim, 
Freemen both tyrants and despots defy, 
Then, as their boon they prise 
Shout to the vaulted skies, 
Birth day of freedom— the fourth of July ! 

IV. 

Hail to the Heroes who gain'd Independence, 

Long may their deeds swell the trumpet of Fame — 
Oh ! may their mantles enwrap their descendants, 
Boldly their courage, their virtue to claim — 

May they while life remains, 

While thro' its purple veins, 
Life's crimson current with swiftness does fly, 

On ev'ry sacred day, 

Swell the resounding lay, 
Birth day of freedom — the fourth of July I 



3Line$> 



Written at the close of a visit to Chester County. 

Adieu to the valley thro' which I have rov'd, 

Adieu to the mountain and dell — 
Adieu to those scenes which so dearly I've lov'd, 

To all a last, ling'ring farewell. 

Tho' fortune my lot at a distance has cast, 
From scenes which so doubly are dear, 

Yet mem'ry shall oft, on reviewing- the past, 
Hail that land with a rapture sincere. 

How oft have I wandered thro' bower and glade, 

When Phoebus refulgently shone, 
And mused with delight, 'neath their hallowed shade, 

On days, that forever are gone. 

And when the calm moon from her pillow arose, 

And shed o'er creation her light, 
How oft did the landscape its beauties disclose, 

Enchantingly mild to the sight. 

How oft has the Muse in an hour like this, 

Drank deep at Pieria's fount, 
And seem'd overwhelmed in a transport of bliss, 

As if on Idalia's mount. 



87 



Tho' far I depart, yet shall memory's pow'r, 
Recall each lov'd moment to view, 

And sorrow her banner now waves o'er the hour 
In which I must bid them adieix ! 

To you who so kindly have guarded my youth, 

Ere yet I reluctant depart, 
This tribute to honour to, virtue and truth, 

I leave unalloyed from my heart. 

May pleasure and happiness aided by love, 

Gild the days that to you yet remain, 
And the storm of adversity ne'er may you prove, 

Nor be tortured by sorrow or pain- 
May your days in the stream of prosperity flow, 

And be with true happiness blest, 
And when your probation is ended below, 

May you land in the Reg-ions of Rest ! 

Now adieu to the valley thro' which I have roved, 

Adieu to the mountain and dell, 
Adieu to those friends whom so dearly I've lov'd, 

To all, a last ling-' ring- farewell ! 



Hail to the bosom, with sympathy glowing- ! — 
Hail to the heart with affection sincere ! — 
Long- may it flourish its blessings bestowing*, 
Long may it claim in accordance, a tear, 

While thro' this stormy way 

" Lighted by reason's ray," 
Wand'ring in exile, we comfortless go, 

Sweet to the mournful mind 

'Tis when in truth we find 
Sharers in sorrow, in exile and wo ! 

Dear to the heart is that hallowed feeling 

Sanctioned by virtue, by heaven above — 
Sweet when our joys or our sorrows revealing 

We claim a response from the bosom we love— 

Sweet is the morning light, 

When on the ravished sight, 
Sol's fairest beams break in rapturous glow, 

Sweeter and far more fair, 

Answ'ring our utmost pray'r, 
Sharers in sorrow, in exile and wo ! 



Let others boast their noble birth, 

Their country, kindred, or their claims, 
Allied to potentates on earth, 

Or dignified with titled names — 
These will no solid joys impart, 

They never have — they never can,— 
Unlike the feeling's of the heart, 

Which flow from gentle Mary Ann. 

Let others prize the joys of wealth, 

The tinsel pomps that her adorn, 
Ah ! how she sinks when flown has health, 

And ev'ry rose becomes a thorn — 
And skilled in fortune's frolic wiles, 

Let others scheme each various plan, 
Give but to me the look — the smiles, 

And friendship pure of Mary Ann. 

I prize the look so sweetly soft, 

I prize the native gentle air, 
The finer flow of soul, which oft, 

Adorn the virtuous lovely fair — 
These are the traits which nobly shine, 

The lambent flame of friendship fan — 
And these are they, which so divine, 

Adorn the gentle Mary Ann. 



40 MARY ANN. 

While some abroad in quest of joy 

Direct their weary wand'ring- feet, 
Here native cares my mind employ, 

Within my peaceful lov'd retreat. 
But when in deep distress I roam 

And fail'd has each fallacious plan, 
May I at last, but find a home, 

Within the breast of Mary Ann. 

There would I rest secure from harm, 

The storm nor all its horrors fear, 
Her pow'r should quell each vain alarm, 

Her presence, banish ev'ry tear — 
Then sweetly, freed from pain and care 

Would I improve life's little span, 
And this should be my constant pray'r, 

" May Heaven protect my Mary Ann ! 



Utliqion. 



What theme shall the muse, for affection, now sing-, 

What subject attention shall claim, 
When broke is her harp, and untuned is each string", 

And her pow'r at best but a name ? — 

Shall the follies of man, a frail child of the dust, 

Enliven to rapture her lays, 
Or shall the bright deeds of the holy and just 

Awake the full anthem of praise ? 

Shall she worship at folly's or vanity's shrine, 

Commanding united applause, 
Or shall she relate with an aspect benign, 

Of glory, of honor the cause ? 

Religion, yes ! sacred religion shall stand, 

Of causes the greatest and best, 
Our anchor of hope in a far distant land, 

Our g-uide to a haven of rest ! 

Should the storms of affliction with violence blow, 

Still, still will this anchor remain, 
A solace to penury, sorrow, and wo, 

An anodyne soothing to pain, 



42 RELIGION. 

'Tis this when the soul on eternity's verge, 
The future looks fearfully through, 

Casts her hallowed rays o'er the far spreading" surg 
And brings the blest haven to view. 

That port, where the soul from affliction relieved, 

Sinks calmly and sweetly to rest, 
Nor again is with sorrow or misery grieved 

Within the bright realms of the blest. 

Then hail to that cause which instructs us to bear 
With patience the chastening rod, 

And wafts us aloft on the pinions of pray'r 
To the throne and enjoyment of God ! 



Song— (ft&roittte. 

What form is that, which softly steals 

Before my ravished sight ? — 
My heart a sudden impulse feels, 

And trembles with delight — 
Tis she, in whose attractive air 

The graces all combine, 
To shed their holiest lustre there, 

'Tis she, my Caroline ! 

Oh ! sweet is morn when fair and bright 

He welcomes in the day, 
And sweet before descending night, 

Is twilight's " mantle grey," 
And sweet, when noon his pow'r severe, 

Does to meek eve resign, 
But sweeter far, to me more dear, 

Is lovely Caroline. 

How fair appears the blushing rose 

When wet with morning dew ; 
And fair, reclined in soft repose, 

The violet shrinks from view, 
And fair appear the tender leaves 

Which wreathe around the vine, 
But fairer far, or sight deceives, 

Is lovely Caroline. 



44 



SONG — CAROLINE. 



Her smiles diffuse a joy around, 

To calm my troubled breast, 
And when she speaks, the thrilling- sound 

Soothes all my woes to rest. 
Oh, calm would giide my days below 

Were she but only mine, 
Exempt from sorrow, pain and wo, 

I'd live with Caroline. 



Belinda. 

In this world, where enjoyment and misery changing, 

Alternately yield to each other the sway, 
Thro' its varied dominions while silently ranging, 

I have witnessed the storm and the sunshine of day ; 
1 have look'd with delight for the charms of the morrow, 

And hoped, with its sun, that new joys would arise, 
But oft disappointed, acknowledged with sorrow, 

"In vain expectation, no happiness lies." 

I have caught the bright ray from the eye, when its beaming 

Its hallowed lustre shed over the fair, 
But none I've beheld either waking or dreaming, 

With lovely Belinda can ever compare — 
'Tis she, who sweetly each station adorning, 

A halo of beauty sheds over each scene, 
Like the rays of the beaming and orient morning, 

That gladden the earth with their brightness serene. 

Her presence, affliction disarms of its sorrows 

And bids each vain fear from the bosom depart, 
From her looks even hope a sweet influence borrows, 

While joy's warmest transports encircle the heart. 
Oh! long may she flourish, resplendently shining 

Reflecting a lustre wherever she moves, 
And may the heart find, on her bosom reclining 

An equal return from the object he loves! 



46 



BELINDA. 



May her journey thro' life be devoid of commotion, 

(From sorrow and care may she ever be free,) 
As smooth as the tranquil majestical ocean, 

When hush'd are the winds o'er the face of the sea- 
May her exit from trouble be calm, yet victorious, 

And sweet may she sink in the slumbers of rest, 
Like Sol, more serene, more transcendently glorious^ 

When soft he descends in the shades of the west ! 



Horace, ISpo&e HE. 

" Beatus ille qui proeul negotiis." 

" How blest is he who far removed from strife, 
Tastes the pure joys that mark a rural life — 
Free from the noise of courts, of vain parade, 
He sits him down beneath his friendly shade, 
Marks with pleas'd eye, as did his sires of yore 
His well fed oxen turn the furrows o'er, 
While smiling- plenty blooms on all around, 
And hails his spot, her own peculiar ground ; 
In vain for him has gain the pow'r to please, 
He prizes more his farm, his rural ease — 
For him in vain the trumpet sounds to arms, 
Or fraught with storms, the angry sea alarms — 
He shuns the bar — the domes of pow'r and state 
Where care and sorrow as attendants wait — 
With heart felt pleasure does he intertwine 
The lofty poplar, with the spreading vine, 
Or lopping off the boughs no .more of use, 
Replaces those, which still may fruit produce. 
Or views his herds meand'ring thro' the vale 
Whose distant lowings swell along the gale, 
Or in clean jars his nectared honey pours, 
To grace his table or increase his stores. 
His tender sheep demand his prudent care 
To ease them gently of the load they bear — 



43 HORACE, EPODF. II. 

Bat when mild Autumn lifts his head on high, 

Adorned with fruits and blushes on the sky, 

With joy supreme he plucks the juicy pear, 

Rear'd by his hand, the product of his care ; 

Collects the shining- clusters of the vine, 

Thy off'ring-, Bacchus, and Priapus, thine !— 

At noon when Sol intensely darts his rays, 

Beneath an elm, his weary form he lays, 

Or on the matted grass, when eve serene 

Sheds her mild beauties o'er the peaceful scene, 

While from steep clefts adown the waters rush, 

And birds, melodious chant from ev'ry bush, 

The fountains murmur with their purling- streams, 

Inviting- slumbers lig-ht, or airy dreams — 

But when fierce Winter, on his icy car, 

Drives forth his snows and tempests through the air, 

He drives the wild boar in the spreading- toils 

While dogs rush onward, eager for the spoils, 

Or spreads his thin nets in each secret bush 

A snare entang-'ling- for the greedy thrush, 

Or in his gins he takes with artful care 

The crane, the rabbit or the tim'rous hare, 

Then hast'ning- homeward, pleas'd at heart he g-oes, 

And with delig-ht his well earned trophies shows — 

Where joys like these, in quick succession move, 

Who, but forg-ets the anxious cares of love ? — 

But if a wife of pure and spotless fame, 

(Such is the Sabine or Appulian dame) 

Piles on the wood, till hig-h the blazes soar, 

To greet her husband when his toils are o'er, 

While smiling- children hail him with delig-ht, 

And in sweet converse pass the cheerful nig-ht, 



HORACE., EPODE II. 49 

Or drives her cows at eve from off the dale, 

And fills with luscious milk her whitened pail. 

Or drawing- from her store, inspiring- wine, 

Prepares the feast — no greater joys are mine — 

No more I wish for — dearer to me far, 

Than Lucrine oysters, turbot or the scar, 

Should stormy winter, with his deaf'ning roar 

Impel them onward to my native shore. 

Not the wild bird of Asia's swelt'ring clime, 

Not the fierce turkey in his vig'rous prime, 

Nor yet the pheasant could me better please, 

Than olives gathered from the fruitful trees, 

Than sorrel loving in the meads to dwell, 

Or herbs salubrious in a state unwell — 

Or yet a lamb slain at the accustomed feast, 

Or tender kid just from the wolf released— 

Amidst such joys how pleasing to behold, 

The well fed sheep returning to the fold, 

To view the weary oxen homeward bear 

With drooping necks, the plough's inverted share, 

While nurn'rous servants, blooming all in health, 

Ranged round his Gods, confess his pow'r and wealth," 

These words spake Alphtus, glowing with desire 
To quit his craft, and from the town retire — 
Soon he collects his gold, on int'rest lent, 
Resolved to practise each minute intent, 
But (lust of wealth !) his purposes were vain, 
He but collected, to place out again ! 



&o tiTorntltau 



'Tis past, 'tis gone, and all is o'er ! — 

Those halcyon days of peace are fled, 
And on thy bosom now no more 

Shall rest this weary aching head. 
Alas, how changed the scene appears, 

From what in early life I knew, 
No object now my bosom cheers, 

So hope and love and peace adieu ! 

When first I thought thy heart was mine, 

And hope had whispered it was true, 
The sun more fair appeared to shine, 

The skies were robed in deeper blue — 
How sweetly then I life enjoyed, 

And time, on volant pinions, pass'd, 
Bright dreams of bliss my mind employ 'd, 

Each day was lovelier than the last ! 

Oft have we climb'd the verdant hill, 

To view the morn's first orient rays, 
When o'er the peaceful scene and still, 

Bright Sol had shed his gorgeous rays. 
And when his noontide fervor glow'd, 

Oft have we sought the cooling shade, 
Where soft the rill meand'ring flow'd, 

And songsters warbled thro' the glade. 



TO CORNELIA. 51 

But when the evening- calm and mild, 

Advanced along- the eastern sky, 
When star by star, appearing, smiled, 

And Luna reigned serene on high. 
'Twas then the hour we pensive rov'd, 

While nature round was fair and bright, 
'Twas then I gazed, and gazing lov'd, 

My heart was thrill' d with strange delight ! 

These were the scenes to memory dear, 

These joys my earlier days have known, 
Oft had I hop'd, thro' life's career, 

Tho 5 all unheeded, all alone, 
Still would their pow'r my bosom calm 

Tho' raging like the angry sea, 
Diffuse around a heavenly balm, 

And turn my thoughts to youth and thee ! 

But now, no more shall memory's pow'r 

With joy the past events renew, 
Recall each lov'd each fleeting hour, 

Which o'er my path its fragrance threw — 
From scenes like these, I joyless turn 

To mourn the lot decreed for me, 
Cornelia ! it was ill to spurn, 

The heart that beat so high for thee ! 

That heart which once with pleasure knew, 
To share thy joys, to soothe thy wo, 

That heart than which no one more true 
Canst thou e'er hope again to know— 



52 TO CORNELIA. 

Yet go ! — and may indulgent heaven 
O'er thee extend its chiefest care, 

To thee, unnumbered joys be given 
To me, the weight of wo to bear ! 

Oh Memory ! would that thou couldst close, 

To me the scenes of other days, 
Fcr ah ! in vain I find repose 

When on the past I backward gaze- 
Cornelia ! now my hour is o'er, 

Since thou and I are doomed to sever, 
Then go — we part — we meet no more, 

Farewell — again farewell — forever ! 



Nri»*T*at** &Wreg0 for isas. 



" Fugaces anni labuntur," 

The morn hath dawned — the shades of night are gone- 

The year again its annual round hath flown, 

The year so late arrayed in vernal bloom, 

Hath fled in silence with the midnight gloom, 

And dawning from the East in lustre gay, 

Behold another, ent'ring with the day — 

'Tis now the hour that memory loves to gaze 

Upon the scenes of far departed days, 

'Tis now the hour those scenes her call obey 

And wake to life, and pass in long array ! 

She first to Albion turns, and what descries ?— 
A chief,* a statesman pale and gory lies— 
And whence the cause ? — not by the ruthless foe, 
But by himself was struck the mortal blow — 
Worn out with care, of toil and trouble tir'd, 
His feeble arm against himself conspir'd ! — 
His latest deeds his former actions blot 
Unwept he lies, unpitied and forgot ! 
How long, oh, Albion ! shall this crime be thine ! — 
How long, its influence to thy shores confine ? — 
The mind revolts, appalled shrinks back the soul, 
And nature shudders at a deed so foul ! 
* Castlereagli. 



54 new-year's address for 1823. 

And next to Greece she turns, Land of the Lyre ! 
To view again revived, her ancient fire — 
Tho' since her glory in its zenith shone, 
Years have elapsed, and centuries have flown, 
Still she perceives that noble strength of soul, 
Aw'd by no sway and bow'd by no control, 
That dauntless spirit, once her greatest pride, 
Which death or danger equally defied, 
Those patriot flames which warm'd her noble sires 
And those high hopes that kindled freedom's fires ! — 
"Advance and prosper !" is the Muse's pray'r, 
Prove you are worthy of the name you bear, 
'Tis freedom calls, and may success attend, 
And smiling Vict'ry wait you in the end, 
May all your deeds, to men proclaim aloud, 
" We ask but this, our freedom or a shroud !" — 
And Albion ! thou who pled'st the negro's cause, 
And banish'd thraldom by thy righteoxis laws, 
Canst thou behold this nation prostrate laid 
Beneath injustice, and refuse thine aid ? — 
No ! let thy powerful arm her cause maintain 
Aid on the shore, and succour on the main, 
So shall applause thy well meant efforts crown, 
A nation rescued, echo thy renown ! 

But now the Muse returns, her wand'ring o'er — 
My country lo ! she greets thy peaceful shore, 
Where freedom dwells, and plenty scatters round 
Unmimbered blessings o'er thy hallow'd ground, 
Where man with man his equal rights may claim, 
And built is merit on a spotless name — 



NEW-YEAR'S ADDRESS FOR 1823. 55 

Bright shine thy prospects with advancing 1 time. 
Far spreads thy name thro' ev'ry distant clime, 
Science and art to raise thy fame conspire. 
And nations round behold thee, and admire ! — ■ 
While eager crowds by foul oppression driven, 
Seek on thy shores the greatest gift of Heaven ! — 
Immortal freedom ! long thy banners wave, 
Be thoxi our boon or be our home the grave ! 

Land of the brave ! full cause ha3t thou to weep* 
A chief has fallen on the mighty deep ! — 
From blood stained hands he met the fatal blow, 
The ruthless, reckless, fell, marauding foe ! 
Lamented Allen ! long for thee shall raise 
The grateful tribute of deserved praise, 
Long shall we hail thy actions with applause 
Thou noble martyr in thy country's cause, 
And memory long shall wreathe around thy name, 
A shining halo of unfading fame ! 

And thou ! bright city, as I cast mine eyes, 
O'er thy lov'd walls, what pleas'd emotions rise! 
With noble pride, with pleasure I survey 
Thy greatness rising each succeeding day — 
Commerce for thee, her swelling sails expands, 
For thee, wafts o'er the sweets of foreign lands ; 
While lovely science sheds around her rays, 
And genius shines with one effulgent blaze; 
While polished manners, joined with hearts sincere, 
The stranger welcome, and the friendless cheer ! — 
Long shall I hail thee, o'er the world beside, 
Land of my home and city of my pride. 



Song— ISlten. 



Oh ! some may praise the rose's dye, 

And some the blush of morning-, 
And some, the clouds that girt the sky 

Sol's orient path adorning ; 
And some may tune the noble lyre, 

Deeds of glory telling, 
Warbling wild poetic fire, 

But I will sing of Ellen. 

Saw ye e'er a form so fair, 

Such an eye of brightness, 
Saw ye such a winning air 

Such a step of lightness — 
Saw ye such a noble soul. 

Where truth and honor dwelling, 
Give strength and beauty to the whole, 

And crown the charms of Ellen. 

When around my pensive heart 

Flows the stream of sadness, 
She can hope and peace impart, 

Sorrow turn to gladness — 
Breathe a fresh enchantment round, 

Pain and grief repelling ; 
Such the maid that I have found, 

My rosy matchless Ellen, 



SONG — ELLEN. 57 

Her mild blue eyes serenely beam 

With kindest lustre o'er me ; 
Awake I gaze, and when I dream 

Her presence is before me — 
Long- shall she reign within my breast, 

All other maids excelling, 
And long her pow'r shall stand confest, 

The charms and mind of Ellen. 



^Itrtnt* 



"Mta patria! vale!" 

" My native land, good night !" 

My native land, adieu ! adieu ! 

My course is o'er the sea — 
I sail upon the waters blue, 

Far, far away from thee ! — 
Those scenes to youth and hope so dear, 

That active childhood knew, 
Demand my last, my parting- tear — 

My native land, adieu ! 

My native land adieu ! adieu ! 

My course is o'er the sea — 
And yet a heart more warm more true, 

Sure never beat for thee !— 
Oh ! I have joy'd to see thy pow'r, 

Have wept thy crimes to view, 
Affection claims my parting hour — 

My native land, adieu ! 

My native land, adieu ! adieu ! 

My course i3 o'er the sea — 
Tho' distant climes, I sail to view. 

Still memory turns to thee, 



59 



Where crown'd with health, with peace, and love 

My early moments flew ; 
Sure these my fond affection prove — 

My native land, adieu ! 

My native land adieu ! adieu ! 

My course is o'er the sea — 
Oh ! would that heaven would guide me thro' 

And lead me back to thee ! 
But no ! a warning" voice declares 

My years, my days are few ; 
I go — be thine my ardent pray'rs, 

My native land, adieu ! 



Hmc0 

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF WILLIAM ARMSTRONG, JR. 
Who died June 27th, 1823. 

And thou art gone ! within the tomb, 

Alone and still to moulder, — 
No more thy form in manhood's bloom 

Shall strike each pleas'd beholder ! — 
Insidious death ! thy potent arm 

At noon, at midnight blasting-, 
Hath passed where nought was dreamt of harm, 

With desolation lasting ! 

How short the days ! how swift ! since thou 

With life and health wert beaming, 
Gay gladness sat upon thy brow, 

Thine eyes with pleasure streaming ! — 
The rosy dream of faithful love 

In colours bright was glowing ; 
And thou wert soon, ah ! soon to prove 

Thy cup of joy o'erflowing 

But all is past ! 'midst gay delight, 

With brightest prospects o'er thee, 
Came fell disease — with sudden blight 

From life and love it bore thee — 



61 



The scene how changed !— thy days are fled. 

And lowly thou art lying-, 
Soon shall the grass wave o'er thy head, 

And in the breeze be sighing ! 

For thee no more the morn shall dawn, 

The sun arise in splendor, 
Nor noon's fierce rays spread o'er the lawn 

Nor evening's, mild and tender — 
No more for thee with placid light 

Shall Luna's beams be shining, 
But they shall gild the lonely night, 

On thy cold bed reclining ! 

And how is she whom thou hast left, 

To whom thy vows were plighted ?— 
Of love, of ev'ry joy bereft, 

Forlorn and disunited ! — 
To her the world how chill ! how drear ! 

Joy's fabric fast dissolving — 
Alone she sits, without a tear, 

O'er withered hopes revolving! 

And oh ! that tearless eye ! — its gaze 

Is grief intense declaring — 
It is the grave of Hope — its rays 

Are cheerless and despairing ! — 
It tells of more than meets the eye, 

Than can by words be spoken, — 
Of joys that wither — fade — and die, 

Of hearts and friendships broken !— 
6* 



62 



Farewell ! thy name hath left behind 

A fragrance, sweetly telling 1 , 
That thou wert duteous, tender, kind, 

To those around thee dwelling ; 
Oh ! mayst thou be, tho' fled from sight, 

A guardian spirit o'er them, 
Shed round their path a beaming light, 

To guide the way before them ! — 

Farewell ! tho' thou hast pass'd away, 

Shall memory's faithful finger, 
Long point the spot where sleeps thy clay, 

And fancy love to linger, 
Beside thy grave, when brightly beam'd 

Shine forth the dews of even, 
And view thee " ransom'd and redeemed," 

Among the sons of Heaven. 



a &mth 

The ev'ning mild displays her charms 

O'er valley, glade, and bow'r, 
The breeze is ruffling 1 o'er the lake, 

Is sighing thro' the flow'r — 
The moon appears above the hill, 

Just rising to the view, 
And save her pageant clouds, the heav'ns 

Are one expanse ef blue. 

Now silence throws her mantle rcund— 

The hills, the vales are still, 
All, save the forest where complains 

The plaintive whippoorwill — 
All, save at times when on the ear 

A lengthened murmur steals, 
And by the mill, upon the bank, 

A waterfall reveals ! 

How gently strikes upon the ear, 

The water's melody ! 
Which mingling with the breeze conveys 

Its music o'er the lea — 
The Queen of Night now rides aloft 

In plentitude of pow'r, 
And " light and music mingled" shed 

Enchantment o'er the hour ! 



64 A SKETCH. 

I sit me down upon the bank, 

In serious pensive thought, 
To muse upon the days of youth, 

The pleasures that they brought, 
While thro' my bosom steals a sigh, 

Shall I its cause explore ? — 
Yes ! tis that " youth's warm glow" decays, 

To animate no more ! 

How pleasing once this scene appear'd 

To youth's enchanted gaze, 
When eyed thro' fancy's rainbow glass 

And hope's delusive rays ! — 
How diff'rent since — but can it be ? — 

Sure 'tis the self-same scene ! — 
It is — but I am altered now, 

A being that has been. 



&0 (&VCCCC. 



Land of the Patriot ! — now the muse 

On thee, with anxious eye is gazing" ; 
Thy noble deeds with pride she views, 

Her pray'rs for thy success are raising — 
Once shone thy glory far and wide, 

The mistress of the land and ocean, 
And Liberty, thy country's pride 

Was worshipp'd with supreme devotion ! 

Still nobly burn those patriot fires, 

They glow unquenched, undimmed, unfaded, 
Thy sons are worthy of their sires, 

Thy glory yet is undegraded ! — 
Fair Freedom calls, — thy sons arise 

In native might, in native splendor, 
Resolved to hold the glorious prize 

Or, but with life, the boon surrender ! 

Advance with firmness, for thy cause 

Is just before the eye of Heaven, 
Advance, nor in thy progress pause, 

And win the meed to valor given — 
The spirits of thy ancient chiefs 

Are, tho' unseen, still hov'ring near thee, 
Advance ! — revenge thy recent griefs, 

Thy friends, applaud, thy foes shall fear thee. 



66 TO GREECE. 

What tho' are past thy days of song, 

Thy days of fame are yet remaining-, 
Then rouse thee, in thy valor strong", 

With patriot spirit, toil disdaining— 
Haste ! haste thee on ! lift high thy hand 

And in the strife be quickly closing-, 
And sever from thy native land, 

The hostile hosts thy cause opposing-. 

Land of the Lyre ! shall many a bard, 

To future time thy deeds be telling-, 
Thy valor claims its just reward, 

Thy fame is praise itself excelling- — 
Shine on — may years succeeding- show, 

Thy fame, thy lustre still unclouded, 
Be hence the time when thou shalt know, 

In darkness, all thy brightness shrouded. 



mnea 



OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF CHARLES M. T- 

How brightly shone thy early day ! — 

How bloom'd thy path with flow'rs — 
But death hath borne thee, far away 

To a brighter world than ours ! — 
Thy sun of youth and life hath set, 

The pall is o'er thee flowing, 
And the evening- dews will often wet 

The flow'rs upon thy cold bed growing ! 

Oh ! thou wert fair, and youth to thee 

Was as a day in spring, 
When skies are blue, and merrily 

Do the feathered warblers sing ! 
But this is o'er — death's sable cloud 

Thy morning sky hath shaded, 
And silently sleeps within the shroud a 

Thy withered form, thy beauty faded ! 

For thee we mourn not, but for those 
Whose fondest hopes are dead, 

Who gazed with agonizing throes 
As thy parting spirit fled !— 



68 



May he who struck, assuage the blow, 
Seal up the fount of sorrow, 

And, in mercy, cause their recent wo, 
A mellower tint from time to borrow ! 

Sleep on ! for thee the sting- of death 

Was reft of all its pow'r, 
As guiltless, pure, when ceased thy breath 

As in thy earliest hour ! — 
No griefs hadst thou to cloud thy close, 

No crimes to be forgiven, 
For spirits like thine, on high, compose 

The kingdom of the blest in Heaven, 



Sttbttattott*— Song, 

The zephyrs mild are playing 

Among* the forest trees, 
A murmur soft conveying, 

The list'ning ear to please — 
'Tis now the mellow placid ray 

Of eve shines o'er the lea, 
Then haste thee love without delay 

To wander with me. 

The stream is softly flowing, 

Upon its bed of stone, 
The distant herds are lowing 

As I pensive roam alone — 
And moonlight soon will mildly beam 

Upon each field and tree, 
Then haste love, by the well known stream 

To wander with me. 

Oh ! thou my only treasure, 

Without thee, is the grove 
Devoid of joy and pleasure, 

Devoid of hope and love — 
No longer then delay, but turn 

Thy footsteps hither free, 
And haste thee love, down by the burn 

To wander with me. 

7 



70 INVITATION — SONG. 

The hours are swift retreating, 

Soon will the charm be gone, 
For time at best is fleeting, 

Then haste love, haste thee on — 
By the well known stream which gently flows, 

Beside our fav'rite tree, 
There haste thee love, at daylight's close, 

To wander with me. 



£omtet0 to fyt <®l& QMillo'm Cm, 

Standing on the Mansion of my Ancestors. 

I. 

Hail ! hoary friend, as on thy limbs I gaze, 

And view thee spreading* in thy might, — I seem 
Robed in the mantle of the past, and dream 

Of scenes forgotten — of departed days, 

When thou wert young and fair — and when thy shade 
Was shelter, from the fierce and darting beams 
Of day's bright regent, to a race, whose gleams 

Of glory and renown are past — who made 

Their short and fleeting stay; who liv'd and shone 
Awhile in brightness in this middle state, 
But by the besom of oblivious fate 

Were swept away unheeded — and were gone ! 

Oh ! may I find, when life's short span shall close, 

Beneath thy shelter, a secure repose. 



Co tfje ©in ftSitUoto. 

ii. 

The wind is sighing- thro' thy leaves — the sky 
Is drear and cloudy, and the hour of eve 
In haste advances — why thus do I grieve? — 
Why thro' my bosom heaves the frequent sigh 
And oft repeated moan ? — Ah ! on my mind 

Now rush the scenes of youth and childhood, when 
As yet untutored in the wiles of men, 
Swift flew the hours to joy and hope resigned ! — 
How wide the contrast ! — now each scene around, 
To youth advanced puts on a diff'rent face — 
No more I find that sweet and nameless grace, 
Enchanting each remembered spot — the bound 
Of youth and fancy's glowing reign is past, 
The spell is broke — dull manhood comes at last. 



gonwt to Hope, 

Light of my life ! as thro' the progress drear 

Of this wide world my forward course I speed, 
And feel its woes, how oft thy aid I need, 

And but for thee how sad would all appear ! — 

Thou art the sunbeam, breaking- light and clear 
Athwart the cloud, and shedding round a ray 
Of bright effulgence o'er the stormy day, 

My woe3 to lessen, and my heart to cheer ! — 

To thee, I render all my vows sincere, 

And oh ! do thou my ev'ry step attend, 
Be thou a beacon, pointing far and bright 

To those blest realms beyond this narrow sphere 

Where pain, and wo, and grief shall have an end, 
In one vast round of unalloyed delight ! 



7* 



TBTaleMctorg Stands* 

The hour is come that we must part, 

The sails are rustling- in the wind ; 
Each tie that wreathed around my heart, 

Each friend and scene I leave behind. 
And dost thou ask why clouds my brow, 

Why thus my tears unbidden flow ?— 
Forbear — the time may come when thou 

In turn my present pang's shalt know. 

Now on my memory sadly crowd 

The scenes of earlier, sweeter days, 
When pleasure's voice rang long and loud, 

And fancy's glowing rainbow rays 
Shone o'er my path, with lustre bright, 

To gild each scene to childhood's eye, 
As lovely as the hues of light, 

That blush upon the morning sky. 

Then love and joy shed o'er my soul, 

Their lov'liest sway, their holiest pow'r, 
My bosom own'd their sweet control, 

And joyous sped the fleeting hour, 
Hope drew the future bright and fair 

And Memory hallowed all the past, 
Till my fond heart unknown to care, 

Had fondly thought those days would last. 



VALEDICTORY STANZAS. 75 

But say where is their splendor now ? — 

Gone, like the meteor gleam of light, 
That glitters on the mountain's brow, 

Then sinks in deepest shades of night ! — 
Nor, only gone — There lingers still 

Remembrance of their bliss behind, 
Which heightens all my present ill, 

And clouds with deeper grief my mind ! 

The birds sing sweet, but not for me ! — 

The flow'rs as gay as ever bloom, 
And nature smiles as gloriously, 

With bud and blossom and perfume — 
Far, far from all I bend my course 

Across the wide and roaring main, 
Oh Memory ! thou who wert the source 

Of joy, art now the cause of pain ! 

Then ask no more why thus I sigh, 

The tear of heart- felt grief will steal, 
As I review with sorrowing eye 

What I have felt, and what I feel ! — 
But ne'er may my sad lot be thine, 

Thus whispers fond affection true, 
Possess the joys that once were mine, 

Forget me, and be blest — Adieu. 



S Nigjt mm. 



The blue vault of even 

Is spang-led with stars, 
As they ramble thro 5 Heaven 

In their light-beaming- cars — 
All nature is hushing 

In oblivious ease, 
Save the rill in its gushing 

And the sighs of the breeze. 

How solemn to wander 

Unheeded and lone, 
To muse and to ponder 

On days that are gone ; 
When they shone in their brightness 

Unsullied and fair, 
When the footsteps of lightness 

And pleasure was there ! 

When friendship imparted 

Her loveliest ray, 
And free and light hearted, 

We welcom'd her sway ; 
When the heart was unfolded 

" Deep answ'ring to deep," — 



A NIGHT PIECE. 

By sympathy moulded, 

With the weeper to weep ! 

Tho' gone is their splendor, 

Shall memory cast 
A hue rich and tender 

Wide over the past — 
Its lustre to heighten 

Shall fancy portray 
Each scene till it brighten 

And beam in her ray ! 

Tho' fate bade us sever 

From the lov'd ones of youth, 
Tho' vanish'd forever, 

Their honor and truth; 
Perhaps in those regions 

Now lighting the sky, 
'Mongst the glorified legions 

They are beaming on high ! 

Then why should we sorrow ? 

Unstable is all ! — 
To-day's bloom to-morrow, 

May be robed in the pall ! — 
And the breezes now skimming 

O'er the white crested surge, 
May shortly be hymning 

Our requiem dirge ! 

But beyond the dominions 
Of sorrow and thrall, 



73 A NIGHT PIECE. 

Soaring- upward, on pinions 
Triumphant, o'er all, 

Our friendships, once breathing 
Of death and the tomb, 

Shall know for their wreathing 
Immortality's bloom. 



ty,ixm 



ADDBESSED TO OLIVER MATTHEWS OP BALTIMOBE COUNTY, 
(Since deceased) in the 102d year of his age. 

Of the years that are vanish'd and fled, 

Thou standest a relic, alone, 
The winter of age, hath encircled thy head 

With a white and immaculate zone, 
And brightly thou shinest, a land- mark between 
The days that are now, and the years that have been ! 

The sun in his gorgeous career, 

Unnumber'd the times thou hast view'd, 

When bright in arising his splendors appear, 
Or mild in his evening mood — 

When calmly he sinks in the waves of the west, 

Like a spirit of earth in the sleep of the blest ! 

But say, hath his glory decreas'd, 

Since the dawn and the morn of thy day — 

His might and his splendor to show, hath he ceas'd, 
Or to lighten the world with his ray ? — 

No ! mighty in power, eternal in bloom, 

He dreads neither death, nor the nisrht of the tomb ! 



80 LINES. 

But a different race he illumes, 

From those he beheld in thy youth— 
For they have gone down to their separate tombs, 

Their vigor, their virtue and truth — 
While thou art remaining- — a limb of the dead- 
Yet rescued by time from oblivion's bed ! 

I 
Thus oft have I seen in the field, 

When the work of the reapers was o'er, 
A stalk that eluded the death- dealing wield 

Of the scythe, and bloom'd on as before ! — 
But soon did stern winter its beauty deform 
It quivered and sunk 'neath the arm of the storm 

The watchword is sounded alone, 

"Death, death is approaching to all" — 

And o'er us enrobed in the folds of the shroud, 
Shall wave yet the wide flowing pall — 

And oh ! may our day in its verging decline, 

Have a sky as unclouded, as spotless as thine. 

Then rest thee, thou remnant alone 
Of a race now embracing the clod, 

And mayst thou triumphant ascend to the throne, 
The fruition of bliss in the mansions of God ! — 

Sink calmly and sweet to thy slumber of rest — 

Mount spirit, from earth to the realms of the blest. 



Qhm 



COMMEMORATIVE OF THOSE WHO FELL IN THE DEFENCE OF 
BALTIMORE, 

September 12th, 1814. 

Say shall their deeds to memory dear 

Be lost in dark oblivion's slumbers, 
And shall they claim no kindred tear, 

And wake no minstrel's lowly numbers ? — 
Oh no ! — one heart is throbbing" still, 

That owns their patriot pure devotion, 
And it shall hail them long", until 

Is still'd in death each fond emotion. 

The day is distant long" and far, 

But Memory, each event recalling, 
Renews the past eventful war, 

When sires and sons around were falling — 
And fell they in the field unknown, 

From home and friends and country parted ? — 
No ! on their native threshold stone, 

They met their fate full noble hearted ! 

For glory deck'd the marble brows, 

On which the dews of death were standing, 



They had fulfilled their solemn vows, 

To that lov'd land their aid demanding 1 — 

And that proud flag- which erst the storm 

Was threat'ning with its utmost rancour, 

Now waved aloft its lovely form, 

Of hope, of victory an anchor! 

They sunk in death, but not their fame — 

For, fragrant in eternal blossom, 
It sheds a richness round each name, 

And hallows each devoted bosom ! — 
Lo ! where yon pillar* proudly stands, 

Now brightening in the hues of morning, 
Behold engraved by mortal hands, 

Immortal names, its shaft adorning ! 

Their name shall be the hero's light ; 

Their fame the Poet's fondest story ; 
A beacon in the fields of fight — 

A page within the tomes of glory ! — 
And time shall show upon his flight, 

How vain are all his worst endeavors, 
For he himself shall sink in night, 

Ere from our hearts their deeds he severs ! 

• Battle Monument. 



?tan?a0* 



" Our days of bliss, reflected, throw 
A brightness o'er our days of wo !' 

When the bosom in sadness 

Is lowly depressed, 
And each channel of gladness 

Seems closed in the breast — 
When the breezes of even 

Blow chilly and drear, 
And the pure skies of heaven, 

Cloud- encircled appear ; 

How sweetly come over 

The sad one and lone, 
The feelings which hover 

Hound Memory's throne — 
The joys of the hours 

Now distant and fled, 
From their vernal leaf'd bowers 

A fragrancy shed ! 

Of the brightness, once beaming 

In splendor on high, 
There yet is a gleaming 

Spread over our 6ky, 



84 



Which mildly revealing- 
Its richness, illumes 

The dark night of feeling 1 
And scatters its glooms ; 

Till the twilight, a warning 

Breaks, steadfast and clear, 
That rosy-skied morning 

Will shortly appear — 
And the morn will be flowing 

Full fleetly away, 
And in glory be glowing 

Meridian Day ! 



Co tfje mt* umaioto. 



And thou wert planted by the hand of one 

Who rests beneath the valley's clod ! — round whom, 
Once shone the Sun in brightness, and the bloom 

Of Nature spread its charms — who oft begun 

The joyous day in patient toil, and closed 

But with the hour of eve — who lived unknown 
Within the shelter of retirement lone 

And in oblivious rural state reposed ! — 

Would that the lot were mine — that I might live 
Unknown to splendor, by the world forgot, 

And all my hours to Contemplation give, 

Content and thankful for my humble lot ; 

While thy broad shade should cast a charm around, 

And own the spot for consecrated ground ! 



Sonnet M. 

ii. 

The Moon now shines from Heav'n's resplendent dome 
And glimmers thro' thy branches — while around 
To break the dreary stillness, not a sound 

Is heard, except the dying- moans that come 

From distant forests, waving- in the breeze ! — 
Now Contemplation, sister of the Night, 
To days remote and past directs her flight, 

When thou wert fairest 'mong surrounding trees ! — 

When thou wert hallow'd by the tale of love, 
The dream of inspiration 'neath thy shade — 

The plaintive warbling of the vernal dove, 
And all the songsters of the sunny glade ! 

Still art thou hallow'd by this heart of mine 

And be the tribute of affection thine ! 



The following Lines were written during the unjust occupation of Spain 
by the French in 1823. 

Rouse from the tang-led toils 

Tyrants are netting 1 , 
Let not thy valued spoils 

Despots be getting — 
Rouse in thy peerless might, 

Thraldom disdaining", 
Be, in the fields of fight 

Liberty gaining ! 

Lo! on thy solemn vows 

Freedom is breathing, . 
Wave shall yet o'er thy brows, 

Victory's wreathing ; 
Springs in each field and glen 

Liberty's rattle, 
Haste thee then, haste thee then, 

On ! for the battle ! 

Wildly and free the breeze 

Blows o'er the seamen, 
From o'er the deep blue seas, 

Regions of Freemen— 



TO SPAIN. 

Catch from its passing- breath 
Freedom's infection, 

Welcome a noble death, 
More than subjection ! 

Nations around thee are 

Wistfully gazing- ; 
Oft, for thy righteous war 

Prayers are raising — 
Summons thy valiant men 

Liberty's rattle. 
Haste thee then, haste thee then, 

On ! for the battle ! 

Freedom shall point the way, 

Crown it shall glory; 
Beam, with a beacon's ray, 

Shall thy proud story : 
Bright thy example shine, 

Lured by its lustre 
Thither, at Freedom's shrine 

Millions shall cluster ! 

Lo ! on the distant glades, 

Foes are advancing ! — 
Bright on their burnished blades 

Sunbeams are dancing — 
Thraldom's chains o'er thy men 

Fearfully rattle, 
Haste thee then, haste thee then, 

On ! for the battle ! 



Stands, 



TO THE MEMORY OF ELIZA T . 

Who died October 5th, 1823. 

In life's early morning 

Thy spirit hath flown, 
Where wrecks and where tempests 

Alike are unknown— 
Where the pilgrim from sorrow, 

Rests safe and secure, 
In regions whose glories 

Forever endure ! 

Where the sun is not needed, 

Nor Luna's pale gleams, 
But day unextinguish'd 

Eternally beams — 
Where seraphs are swelling 

The anthem of praise 
To him, the Eternal — 

The Ancient of Days ! 

But tho' thou hast vanish'd 
Like dewdrops of even, 

When morning in splendor 
Exhales them to Heaven, 



90 



Still tears shall be flowing 1 , 
They flow not for thee, 

But for those who were guiding" 
O'er life's warring- sea, 

Thy bark — which hath anchored 

No more to unmoor, 
Where the billows flow calmly 

The breezes are pure ! — 
For these we are mourning 

And well may we be, 
And tears shall be flowing-, 

They flow not for thee ! 

Oh ! could I be changing 

My lot with thine own 
How would my fledged spirit 

Soar up and be gone ! — 
But rest thee, thou blossom 

So soon for the blight, 
Above thou art blooming 

An angel of light ! 



^ututmt* 

Now lowr's around the clouded sky 

The yellow leaf falls fast and lone, 
The breeze is sighing- o'er the lawn 

With lengthened moan. 

And nature all is hastening- on, 

To winter's dread and drear repose, 
The bloom and fragrance long- have gone 
Of flow'r and rose. 

Creation, now her verdure done 

Will soon assume an aspect bare, 
And frosts their blasting - influence shed, 
And chilly air ! 

The bird no more is tuning- wild 

His joyous notes on ev'ry boug-h, 
But mounting- higb, on fairy wing- 
Forsakes us now, 

For fairer climes and purer skies, 

Where warmly blows the balmy air, 
No howling winds disturb his rest, 
No winter there ! 



How sadly strikes the feeling heart, 

The loneliness that spreads around, 
The leaf that severed by the breeze 

Falls to the ground ! — 

Fit emblem of our fleeting- joys, 

Which bud awhile and blossom high, 
But blasted soon by biting wo, 

They fade and die ! 

And peace, and hope — affection warm — 

The kindred ties of love and bliss, 
Have felt, and keenly yet shall feel 
An hour like this ! 

The heart now beating high and warm 

Shall cease its throbs some future day, 
And lowly laid beneath the turf 
Shall know decay ! 

Oh Time ! thy triumphs who shall tell ? — 

The trophies of thy fame record ? — 
Thou speak'st, and humbled nations bow 
Before thy sword ! 

And genius bright — and beauty fair — 

The lov'd — the blooming — and the gay- 
Affection — friendship — Love itself 
Must own thy sway ! 

But tho' now Desolation ride 

With blighting wings upon the wind, 



93 



He yet shall know his blasting- pow'r 
To Time resigned! — 

For spring shall come with charms renew'd 

To bid creation smile again. 
And warbling birds, and trees, and flow'rs, 
Shall hail her reign. 

Then look the vista thro' of years, 

Behold the Bow of Promise bright, 
It spreads its arch of purest glow 
To glad the sight ! 

Tho 5 man, by nature, yet must feel 

The blighting hour of wo and grief, 
And know the self-same fate, that knows 
The yellow leaf. 

Yet he shall rise renewed from death, 

The glorious victor in the strife, 
And disenthralled from Time, put on, 
Immortal life ! 



I love the lone and pensive hour 

When Memory wakes her active pow'r, 

Renews the joys, the hopes, the fears, 

The feelings of departed years ! — 

Of youth, the careless sport and glee, 

The heart full light, and soul as free — 

The breast unknown to care or sorrow — 

The hope that dress'd in smiles the morrow — 

The feelings proud — the bosom warm — 

And all that gave to youth its charm ! — 

When Fancy lent her glowing aid 

And ev'ry wo with joy repaid, 

Deck'd with her hues each fairy scene 

And clothed in one perennial green, 

The waving foliage of the wood, 

The banks that sloped to meet the flood, 

The hills that rose in might sublime 

The eldest born of light and Time ! 

Then gaily pass'd the fleeting day, 
And oft a faint and partial ray, 
The Muse would deign to beam around, 
To bid the tuneful reed resound, 
To bid the youthful feelings strong, 
Glide into wild and wayward song! 



95 



The scen'ry round that charmed the eye- 
The brook that glided swiftly by, 
Then formed below the wild cascade, 
And hastened to the smiling- glade, — 
The banks that overhung the stream 
Where nature, art itself might seem, 
So close at top had formed a shade 
Of boughs, it seem'd an arbor made 
For cool retreat, or studious hour 
And might be hail'd the Muse's bow'r ! — 
The mountains far that met the view 
With graceful crown of purest blue, 
With wood and dale disposed between 
All blooming in their robe of green — 
The Heav'ns that hailed the raptured sight, 
With broad expanse of glorious light — 
These were the poet's constant themes, 
The subjects of his golden dreams ! 

And oh ! that days so pure should fade — 
Their joy a tale — their bliss a shade ! — 
That skies so fair and scenes so gay 
Illusive come, then pass away — 
That youth should live his little span, 
Then dwindle into sober man ! — 
And lose that warm, that ardent glow, 
Which youthful hearts alone can know, 
Those buoyant hopes become suppress'd 
And Fancy's self subside to rest ! — 
Sure days like these but ill agree 
With manhood's dull reality ! 



96 



And thus it is :— to youth, the days 
Are bright with pleasure's fancy's rays — 
These shine awhile to gild his path, 
A lustre lend to all he hath, — 
A brilliance shed his moments o'er, 
Then vanish, and are seen no more ! — 
But memory kind attends him still, 
Upholds him in the hour of ill, 
Cheers his faint spirits, bending- low 
Beneath the weight of pain and wo — 
Touch'd by her wand, the fairest skies, 
The brighest days of youth arise, 
His former scenes before him stand 
As tho' the work of fairy hand ! 

Oh Memory ! — long be thine the pow'r 
To beam upon the weary hour, 
The fateful road of life illume 
And shed a radiance thro' its gloom ! — 
When pain and wo with terrors dire 
Advance, on man to breathe their ire, 
Be thou the faithful smiling friend, 
Do thou our falt'ring steps attend, 
Point back to youth our sinking eyes, 
Bid all our loveliest days arise, 
Then pain shall cease, and wo shall flee, 
And joy shall live revived, in thee ! 






Sylph of the blue and beaming eye ! — 

The Muse's fondest wreaths are thine- 
The buoyant heart beats warm and high, 

And joys to own thy pow'r divine ! — 
Thou shinest on the fiow'ry path 

Of youth, and all is pleasure there — 
Thou soothest man whene'er he hath 

An eye of gloom — a brow of care ! 

To youth thou art the early morn, 

With " light and melody and song 1 " 
To smile around, each scene adorn 

And swiftly speed his time along- — 
To man thou art the gift of Heav'n, 

A boon from regions bright above, 
His lot how dark had ne'er been given 

To him the light of woman's love ! 

When o'er his dark'ning brow, the storm 

Is gath'ring in its pow'r and might, 
The radiant beam of woman's form 

Breaks thro' the cloud and all is light !— 
When dire disease prepares her wrath 

To pour in terror from above, 
How gleams upon his gloomy path 

The glowing light of woman's love ! — 
9* 



When all around is clear and bright 

And pleasure lends her fairest charm, 
And man enraptured with delight 

Feels, as he views, his bosom warm — 
Why glows his heart with joy profuse 

And all his deeds his rapture prove, — 
It is because the scene he views 

Thro' the bright rays of woman's love ! 

Oh Woman ! thine is still the pow'r 

Denied to all but only thee, 
To chase away the clouds that low'r 

To harass life's eventful sea ! — 
Thou light of man ! — his only joy 

Beneath a wide and boundless sky ! — 
Long shall thy praise his tongue employ, 

Sylph of the blue and beaming eye ! 



Be thine the vacant hour of time 

I pass in idle careless rhyme ; 

Be thine the offerings of the muse. 

Be thine the theme that she shall choose, 

Be thine the salutation warm 

My friend endeared 

The pelting storm 
Now rages uncontrolled and fast 
Commingled with the roaring blast — 
Alas ! for him for whom no shed, 
No dwelling rears its peaceful head, 
In such an hour — how hard his lot ! — 
No friends — by all the world forgot, 
He wanders dreary, lone, and free 
The hapless child of misery ! — 
While I protected from its pow'r 
In ease, employ the cheerful hour, 
From tea and social chat retire, 
Trim up my warm and blazing fire, 
And free in thought, in fancy free 
My moments dedicate to thee ! 

How pleasing thus a friend to own 
To whom to make our feelings known — 
With whom to share our moments blest, 



100 



With whom to ease the throbbing breast, 
Who can with gentleness impart, 
Sweet solace to the mournful heart, 
And lighten ev'ry cumbrous load, 
And cheer of life the weary road ! — 
How blest my lot, I often muse, 
While glows my heart with bliss profuse, 
While each affection warm and kind 
In turn is reigning o'er my mind — 
And but, oh Friendship ! for thy gleam, 
How dark the lot of man would seem, 
His soul within himself confined, 
How narrow then his selfish mind — 
For him in vain would nature bloom 
But all around be fix'd in gloom, — 
His very life a burden be, 
A dreary, sad reality ! 

But, thanks to kind indulgent heaven, 
In mercy, thou to man wert given, 
Thy beam descended from on high, 
From blissful courts that grace the sky, 
To shed on man a glowing ray 
And ope for him the light of day ! — 
Seen thro' thy light, each scene around 
Appears as bright enchanted ground ! — 
Of Heaven the fair cerulean hue 
Assumes a darker deeper blue — 
The garb of nature in the scene 
Seems fresher, livelier, purer green — 
The winding stream more graceful flows 
Where flocks upon its banks repose, — 



101 



The flow'rs more gay attract the eyes, — 
The hills in loftier grandeur rise, — 
All own thy bright exalted pow'r, 
Thou soother of the lonely hour ! 

Be mine the varied ills to bear 
That human life by fate must share, 
Nay, more ! — be mine the portion dire, 
Of grief and pain the deadliest ire — 
These will I bear, nor yet complain 
If thou, oh Friendship ! still remain ! — 
Thy presence shall infuse a balm 
Whose opiate pow'r all pain shall calm, 
And bring a sure and sweet relief 
To depth intense of human grief, 
And gloom shall vanish in the bright 
And clear effulgence of delight ! — 

Of News — A spirit took its flight 
Amidst the gloom of yesternight — 
Its pinions wide and far unfurled, 
To hail the vast eternal world ! — 
Thus sink we into silent rest 
Like bubbles on the Ocean's breast ! — 

The storm hath ceased its furious pow'r, 
'Tis now the soft, refreshing show'r — 
The winds their anger have subdued, 
And blow in milder gentler mood — 
So now adieu ! — my hour is past 
And nature calls for rest at last — 
Now let my weary eye-lids close 



102 



And court the joys of sweet repose, 
And let the patt'ring- rain descend 
Upon my roof— the wind shall blend, 
Its gentle moan— and both shall be 
To me, a soothing' lullaby ! 



&o arcrnfUa* 



I may not call upon thee now, for thou art lost to me— 
I will not ask futurity if better days may be, 
For dreary, dark, and sad my lot, in present time, appears 
And glooms impervious, mantle o'er, the prospects of my 
years ! 

I met thee once, when all was fair beneath the clear blue 

sky, 
Where waved the grove upon the breeze ; the streamlet 

murmured by — 
'Twas then I thought, a brighter lot could never be than 

mine, 
And sure the sun ne'er beam'd upon a fairer form than 

thine ! 

fondly thought that thou wert then, the Light of Hope to 

me, 
To cause the clouds of grief and care, to dissipate and flee ; 
To beam in brightness, and to shed around a lovely gleam, 
But ah ! how soon the charm dissolved — illusive as a 

dream. 

Yet still I will not chide thee, tho' we never more shall 

meet, 
Tho' k my days of joy are vanish'd, yet their mem'ry still is 

sweet : 



104 TO CORNELIA. 

And tho' I wander cheerless, yet to muse on pleasures 

o'er, 
Is dearer far to me in gloom, than e'er to wish for more ! 

There is a throbbing- of the heart theft tells that joy is fled — 
There is a gazing 1 of the eye that shows that hope is dead— 
And both are mine where'er I go, whene'er I think of 

thee — 
I may not call upon thee now— for thou art lost to me \ 



UPON THE DEATH OF MARGARET DUKEHART, 
Who died March 2nd, 1824. 

Mortality's conflict is o'er ! — 

And thou art untrammelled and free — 

Thou hast sail'd from the dark and the desolate shore 
Of Time, on Eternity's sea, 

To a haven, whose moorings are steadfast and sure, 

Whose skies in their brightness, eternal endure ! 

How calm was thy peaceable close ! — 

Serenely thou passedst away, 
To the long* and the deep and the quiet repose 

Of the grave, and the pillow of clay — 
The beams of thy sun in its setting were bright, 
Ere it closed in the gloom and the darkness of night ! 

Thou wert not a prize to the grave, 

In the vigor of years and their prime — 

But age and decay had conspired to pave, 
Thy path to the limits of time ! — 

Thy course in its fullness was finished — to die 

Was a boon from the regions of bliss in the sky ! 
10 



105 ELEGIAC LINES. 

I stood by the side of the tomb, 

To which thy remains were consigned, 
And nothing- of sorrow, of sadness or gloom, 

In my innermost heart could I find — 
And I thought with what joy would I being resign 
For an end as triumphant, as peaceful as thine ! 

Thy sun hath but set to arise, 

Again more resplendent and fair; 
If virtue unspotted ascend to the skies, 

Thy dwelling forever is there ! — 
Thou hast pass'd from the chambers of death and of night, 
To bask in the beams of ineffable light ! 

Yet many there be that shall weep 

For the void thy departure hath made — 

The channel of tears shall flow silent and deep 
Ere iis current by time shall be staid — 

They weep for their loss, for they cannot for thine, 

Thou Spirit unsullied, redeemed, and divine ! 



gong. 

How sweet to stray 

Where breezes play 
Among" the fragrant groves — 

When in her car, 

The ev'ning star 
Thro' Heav'n's blue ether roves. 

How sweet to roam 
Where sparkling foam 

Dies on the sandy shore, 
When Cynthia's beams 
Their softened gleams 

In mildest radiance pour. 

Sweet is the song, 

The vale along, 
Borne on the passing breeze, 

Which gently floats, 

In lengthened notes 
From warblers in the trees. 

But far more dear 
Those scenes appear 
When roaming on with thee, 



108 SONG. 

Thou beacon bright 
Of love and light 
Of hope and joy to me ! 

Oft as we rove 
Such feeling's move 

Within my youthful breast, 
I almost seem, 
In fancy's dream, 

A being of the blest ! 



^o <£orneltau 



i. 

The skies endure in a blue as pure, 

The grass in a robe as green — 
As when we stray'd thro' the winding glade, 

To enjoy the lovely scene — 

II. 

And the streamlet laves with its tiny waves 

The banks where roses bloom, 
And as frequent there upon the air 

Is the breath of sweet perfume — 

III. 

From the forest trees in the waving breeze 

A murmur as soft is borne, 
And the notes of love ring thro' the grove 

As sweetly at eve and morn — 

IV. 

But there beam not now, in their wonted glow, 

Affection's loveliest rays — 
Tho' nature bloom with unchanged perfume, 

The light of the heart decays !— 
10* 



110 TO CORNELIA. 

V. 
Those visions blest, that illumed my breast, 

Have left me sad and lone, 
And then- glowing light in darkest night, 

Is veil'd for aye and gone ! 



Co (ftoritelta* 



The years have flown unnoticed by 

Upon the silent wing 1 of time, 
Since o'er me shone the brightest sky 

That e'er adorned the fairest clime — 
'Tis clouded now, and wrapt in gloom, 

And I am wand'ring lorn and lone, 
No cheering beams my path illume 

For joy and hope's fair light is gone ! 

Yet I may call to mind the hours 

When the full cup of bliss was mine, 
When in the bright and vernal bow'rs 

Of Love, that graceful form of thine 
I fondly saw, and felt my heart 

Throb high with life and youthful joy, 
Nor dreamt that fate would e'er impart 

To my blest cup such base alloy ! 

I lov'd— and early singled thee, 

A beauteous, rare and blooming flow'r, 
From out the crowd, to bloom for me 

Expanded, thro' the weary hour 
Of devious time — to shed around 

A fragrance o'er my lowly path — 
But skies were clouding, and the sound 

Was heard of tempests in their wrath ! 



112 TO CORNELIA. 

They came — and sadly came— for I 

Was 'reft of all in losing- thee ! — 
To roam beneath a hostile sky 

Was all that fate had left for me — 
And weary now I journey on, 

Alone amidst the smiling- throng, 
To muse on days of splendor gone, 

And raise the pensive mournful song ! 

Thy memory yet a radiant light, 

Shall shine of other days, afar 
To gild the dark and murky night, 

And be my only guiding star ! — 
I would not lose thy potent pow'r 

Remembrance ! tho' thou turn to pain 
The joy that mark'd each fleeting hour 

When bliss had one unbounded reign ! 



How glorious 'tis at even 

With mute delight to rove, 
When the star-paved court of Heaven 

Beams mild and bright above — 
When the world around is sleeping 

In calm repose reclined, 
And a holy silence keeping — 

Save the murmurs of the wind. 

When the eye devoutly soaring 

Thro' the firmament on high, 
Is each distant orb exploring 

That decks the azure sky ; 
A holy thrill of feeling 

Despite of all control, 
With sacred footstep stealing 

Bursts on the raptured soul. 

As one by one advancing 

Appear these Urns of Light, 
Their beams in mildness glancing 

Across the gloom of night- 
Bright Fancy never failing 

To please and charm the breast, 
Each region would be hailing 

A mansion of the blest ' 



114 



Hqw cheering- the reflection 

To soothe the troubled heart, 
To dissipate dejection 

And cheerfulness impart ; 
When life's last pulse is telling 

The soul to wing its flight, 
That it may find a dwelling 

Within these realms of Light ! 

Hail holy Contemplation ! — , 

Seen thro' thy beaming rays, 
The wonders of creation 

In brightest lustre blaze — 
By thee the mind immortal 

On rapid wings can rise, 
And hail the distant portal 

Refulgent, of the skies ! 



Sonnets to tfje mtt QMiiloto. 

I love to wander 'neath thy spreading shade 

Thou relic of the past ! when noon's fierce rays 
Shine in their splendor ; and their radiant blaze 
Diffuses round a fervent glow — then laid 
Upon the verdure springing green around, 
I feel transported back upon the stream 
Of ever- gliding Time, and almost seem 
To live and breathe afresh, such thoughts abound 
Of youth and youthful days—I hear the strain 
Of warblers in that self same frame of mind 
I erst was wont to hear when o'er me shined 
The light of hope and joy !— but ah ! to pain 
My feelings turn, such visions rise before 
My mind, of what was once, but now alas ! no more ! 



Sonnet tt 

And I too love when modest eve displays 

Her graceful charms, beneath thy boughs to view 
The day's declining orb — to see the blue 
Which marked the western sky, when yet the rays 
Of Noon beam'd round in ardor, slowly change 
To glowing red ; while robed in gorgeous dyes 
The fair clouds float in ether — to the eyes 
It is a sight full glorious !— Oft I range 
At times like this the fields of thought afar, 
And inly hope, like this may be the last 
The closing hours of mine — a brightness cast 
Upon their setting, while the evening star 
Of mercy, beams at distance, pure and bright 
To gild the gloom of death's dark, everlasting night ! 



Static* 

The moments are stealing- 
Unheeded away, 

When the warm hearted feeling 
Of youth shall decay — 

And the world be unwinding 
The charms round it cast* 

And youth shall be finding 
Illusive at last. 

Those visions that sported 

Around him in light ; 
Those splendors that courted 

His joy-beaming sight : 
All, all shall be fleeting 

In haste to be flown, 
And he shall be meeting 

Realities lone ! 

Oh why should be shining 

Such brightness to leave 
The spirit repining, 

Alone, and to grieve ?— 
And why should be wreathing 

Each fancy wove tie, 
Round his bosom, if breathing 

Of death, it must die ? 
11 



118 STANZAS. 

Oh know, that to sever 

His trust and his love 
From the world, and forever 

To fix them above, 
Illusions were granted — 

Deceptions were given, 
That his hopes might be planted 

High-blooming in Heaven ! 



Tho' the hours have pass'd as fleeting- and fast 
As the cloud o'er the noonday sun that flies. 

Since last we met, still there lingers yet 

The parting glance of thy beaming eyes — 

Their softened hues shone mildly and bright, 

Like the rays from the stars in a cloudless night. 

And I can recall each feeling, and all 

That moved in my breast, when I saw the start, 
And I thought how long ere the music and song-, 

Of thy voice would waken my lonely heart — 
Ere thy footsteps be heard on my native halls, 
And thy fairy form would adorn their walls. 

But years have fled to those of the dead, 
And yet no vision of thee has blest, 

These watching eyes and this breast of sighs, 
On which thy image is deep impress'd — 

Thou wouldst not stay couldest thou only know, 

How sad I wander in silent wo ! 

Thro' the groves I stray when the orb of day 
Is shining around in light and splendor, 

And oft when the rays of his evening blaze, 
Are bearing a hue more fair and tender — 

And then thou art present, past, future to me, 

So close are my thoughts interwoven with thee ! 



120 TO GULIELMA. 

Oh hasten, and bring-, on the rapid wing 
Of love, a bosom as true as ever, 

And brighten a breast, which pleasure or rest 
Has known as a joyful dwelling never. 

Since thou hast away from its presence flown, 

And left it deserted, and cheerless, and lone. 



Now the joyous Spring on her fairy wing 1 , 
Enrobed in her mantle of green is here, 

And the buds arise to the fair blue skies. 

From their sleep of Winter long- and drear — 

While melody breaks from the tuneful throats, 

Of choristers warbling their welcoming notes. 

And the lovely rose from its long repose, 

Awakens to deck the lowly vale ; 
And gladness abounds, and the cheering sounds 

Of mirth are borne on the distant gale — 
The rigors of winter are past and fled, 
And nature is coming in bloom from the dead ! 

And can I be still when valley and hill, 

Are ringing with echoes of bliss and joy — 

When the scene invites with its lov'd delights, 
And pleasures the purest my hours employ ? — 

Oh, no ! — for the muse is impatient to flee, 

And her footsteps are bending to friendship and thee. 

For in vanished days, when the first bright rays 
Were beaming of Friendship's sacred flame, 
The Heavn's were clad in a hue as glad, 
II* 



122 TO J. B. 

And nature was blooming around, the same 
As now it appears, and these scenes impart 
The bliss of past years to my joyful heart. 

And I seem to live them again as I give 

My mind to dwell on the moments fled ; 

My bosom throbs high as before me fly, 

The hours and scenes that too swiftly sped — ■ 

They are gone — but their mem'ry a fragrance discloses, 

As sweet as the breath from a garden of roses ! 

Their brightening pow'r can give to the hour. 

When darkness reigns with unbounded sway, 

In my mind, a charm, that can wholly disarm 
Its gloom, and recall the smiling day ! — 

The joys of the past to my wondering eyes 

But appear, and soon sorrow their influence flies ! 

Be our friendship pure ; may it long endure ; 

Unsevered by age or fleeting time : 
And the blossoms of love shall bloom above, 

In a richer soil and a fairer clime — 
Where the spring shall smile unchanged, eternal j 
The leaves of whose flowers forever are vernal. 



Uetvmptttim* 



The remembrance of years that are gone. 

Comes sweetly at times o'er my soul, 
And the hours unheeded pass rapidly on, 

When I yield to its pensive control — 
And the day dreams that once were so fair and so bright, 
Rise clothed in the lustre of memory's light ! 

Each beautiful scene I recall — 

Each feeling of joy I retrace — 
The actions, the passions, impressions and all 

Connected with time and with place, 
Pass clearly before me, and tho' but a dream 
Yet as vivid as if they were present, they seem ! 

The friends of my earliest day, 

Arise from the sleep of the tomb, 
And divested of all that pertains to decay, 

Seem beings of life and of bloom — 
With the same sunny smiles they were once wont to wear, 
To calm my young bosom and soften its care ! 

The scenes that were glowing in light, 

In the splendor of day and its glare, 
Seem as bright as they did to the gratified sight, 



124 RETROSPECTION. 

Of youth, and the skies are as fair— 
They have lost not their richness, tho' gone are the hour 
They smiled — but they bloom yet in memory's bow'rs ' 

How dear are the visions of youth ! 

How grateful its days to recall ! 
When the spirit was robed in a mantle of truth, 

Just fresh from the maker of all ! 
When the bosom knew none of those vices which mark 
An age more advanced, yet more cheerless and dark ! 

As a spot of the liveliest green, 

Which studs the white desert of sand, 
Appears ev'ry feeling of youth and each scene 

That remembrance can sweetly command — 
A place where the eye may repose, and can gaze 
On with rapture in after and wearisome days ! 



How oft when on the yielding air 

The voice of melody is borne, 
Arises all of bright and fair 

That graced of life my early morn — 
Those mellow sounds that erst could charm 

With soothing pow'r my youthful soul, 
In youth advanced, now yet can warm 

And sway with hallow'd sweet control. 

I love to hear the plaintive song 

Upon the balmy breeze of eve, 
Recalling days departed long, 

When yet I knew not how to grieve- 
When all was one continued round 

Of joy I thought could never flee ; 
Ere sorrow's dread discordant sound 

Could mar so fair a melody ! 

But what on earth is firm and sure ? 

Succeeding days too sadly told, 
That joy3 present— awhile endure, 

Then leave the bosom lone and cold !— 
And but for memory earth would seem 

A barren void— a cheerless waste — 
A constant waking from a dream 

Of bliss denied the pow'r to taste ! 



126 



But her bright wand can bid the days 

The early scenes of youth revive, 
And pass before our ardent gaze, 

Like forms that are, and shapes that live — 
And say when does her magic pow'r, 

The past so sweet, so bright control, 
As when in ev'ning's tranquil hour 

Comes music's breath upon the soul ? 

Say what will cause the pensive heart 

Of him, who forced by fate to roam, 
Feels not a joy the scenes impart, 

To muse intense on native home — 
Tis Music — for whene'er he hears 

Her voice upon the ev'ning air, 
The slumb'ring joys of other years, 

Awakened, bend his fancy there ! 

Oh Music ! thou within the breast 

A chord responsive hast to thee, 
Thou giv'st the troubled spirit rest 

And bid'st its cares thy influence flee — 
Well may we prize thee — of an higher 

Descent than earth— a sphere more bright 
Art thou — where Seraphs form a choir 

Full glorious with their Harps of Light ! 



€$ gfrmielta 



I cannot cease to think of thee, 

Not as thou art, but wast — 
I cannot bid thy image flee 

My visions of the past — 
But like a halo round it shines, 
With all my youth it intertwines ! 

I see thee as in years of yore, 

So lovely fair and young 1 , 
In all the charms that then thou wore, 

When with delight I hung 
On ev'ry v/ord that fell from thee, 
When thou wouldst wander forth with me. 

The azure of thy beaming eye — 

The vermil of thy cheek — 
The form that might with faries' vie, 

Are present while I speak — 
And oh ! how memory loves to dwell 
On ev'ry grace I knew so well ! 

To call again the eves and hours, 

That mock'd the passing wind 
In speed ; but like the fleeting flow'rs 



123 TO CORNELIA. 

A fragrance left behind, 
So sweet, its odour charms and cheers 
My spirit now in after years ! 

When we would wander, while the moon 
In brightness was above ; 

The balmy ev'ning air of June 
Within the leafy grove — 

And feelings then came o'er us, such 

As I could ne'er enjoy too much ! 

The future wide before us spread, 
A field of bliss might seem ; 

The past with its bright moments fled, 
A golden fairy dream ! — 

Look we which way we would, still ours 

A scene of sunshine was, and flow'rs ! 

But this is past— and I have known 
In years that since have been, 

A feeling desolate and lone — 
A dark and murky scene — 

Where all involved in gloom would be, 

But for the memory of thee ! 

And that around as moments glide, 

A ray of joy can cast, 
To love thee present is denied, 

Then I must love thee past — 
And find my joy in moments fled, 
Like gath'ring roses, sweet yet dead ! 



& Mining €aIL 

Arise, for the east is blushing* red, 
And the sun awakes from his wat'ry bed. 
The lark is up in the glowing- sky. 
Warbling" his carols of joy on high, 
The bee is abroad on his nectar'd wing, 
To visit the flowr's around that spring 
To light and life, in the early ray 
Of the orient beam of the god of day. 

And see, on the brow of yon summit bold, 
A radiant crown of the purest gold, — 
The sun's first beams hath illumed each drop 
Of the dew that lit on its frowning top, 
And bright they glitter, reflecting below, 
The rays of morning's refulgent glow, — 
Creation hath risen from night and gloom, 
To day, and splendor, and joyful bloom ! 

The breath of perfume is on the air ! — 
The balmy breezes a fragrance bear, 
From flow'rs that open their sweets unseen. 
And blossom in pride in the valleys green— 
The woods are ringing with gladsome notes 
Of song, while soft to the list'ner floats, 
The ceaseless hum of the toiling bees, 
The murmuring sound of the rustling trees = 
12 



130 A MORNING CALL. 

And hark in yon field to the joyous song 
Of the ploughman, di'iving his team along, 
Below to the milk maid's voice — how clear 
Its tones are borne to the raptured ear, 
As smiling she hastens along the dale, 
With a bounding heart, and a reeking pail- 
Sure all is gladness and peace and bliss, 
Oh ! who would miss such a scene as this ! 

How sweet at this hour of joy to muse 
On the beauties scattered around profuse, 
Where all that can charm the eye or ear, 
And all that can gladden the heart appear. 
Arise, for the hour awaits thee now, 
With thy gentle step, and thy placid brow, 
'Tis sweet at this season of balm to rove 
Thro' woods and fields, and to talk of love ! 

Arise ! arise ! ere it yet be gone, 
And the sultry day come hasting on — 
And let us roam thro' the prospect fair, 
And catch the sweets of the passing air 
And list with delight to the milkmaid's song, 
And the ploughman's, driving his team along 
For all is gladness and peace and bliss, 
And who would miss such a scene as this ! 



mm* 



" There's beauty in the deep. "—Conn. Mirror. 

There's beauty in the Night — 
Its vaulted dome is studded bright 
With fountains of perpetual light, 
That glance and sparkle to illume 
Its breast of dusky gath'ring gloom. 
While in the wave reflected clear. 
So mild, so bright their orbs appear, 
That fancy asks can this be so ? 
A Heaven above — a Heaven below ? 

There's beauty in the Night. 

There's music in the Night — 
Tho' day may boast its songsters sweet, 
By bower and grove and cool retreat, 
Yet to the night remaineth still 
Thy pensive strain, sweet whippoorwill ! 
To hearts attuned 'tis also given, 
At this still hour of joyous even, 
To hear, but not with mortal ears, 
The music of celestial spheres — 

There's music in the Night. 

There's quiet in the night, — 
Hush'd now and quell'd the noise of day, 
The strife of man hath passed away. 



132 



And in its place a holy calm 
Steals o'er the soul with soothing 1 balm. 
The leaf forgets to murmur now, 
But lifeless hangs upon the bough, 
While o'er creation wide is thrown, 
The stillness in her morning known — 
There's quiet in the Night. 



Co IBIifflu 



Away with the thought, that the future will part 
The remembrance of thee from my volatile heart- 
Away with the thought, for that heart can retain 
The thrillings of pleasure and throbbings of pain. 
Impressed on its page, thro' each changeable clime, 
Uneffaced and unworn by attrition from time — 
Away with the thought, and remember instead^ 
The days of delight and the scenes that are fled, 
When the sails of the heart were unfurled to the breeze 
Of gladness and pleasure, that over the seas 
Of childhood came fresh'ning, and wafted along 
Our barks freighted deep with love, rapture, and song. 

Recall each bright eve when we strayed by the stream, 
Where in fullness reflected, shone Cynthia's beam 
Upon its wide tremulous surface, and gave 
A silver tipp'd edge to the brim of each wave, 
As playful it rolled in its billowy pride, 
To the rose scented shore, where it sparkled and died— 
Each vow that I breathed in thy bosom enrol, 
In this moonlight of nature and sunshine of soul, 
And record each fond gaze as I uttered adieu, 
And then say, if this heart can be other than true. 
No ! away with the thought that the future will part 
The remembrance of thee, from my volatile heart. 
12* 



Mottling* 



" There's beauty in the deep," 
"There's beauty in the night." 

There's beauty in the morn — 
Far in the east, its arch of blue 
Is gemmed with clouds of rosy hue- 
Its bow'rs are hung- with liquid pearls, 
As bright as glance thro' beauty's curls, 
And stream, and far retiring bay 
Look lovely in its orient ray — 
While flow'rs and shrubs and trees of green, 
Breathe life and freshness o'er the scene — 

There's beauty in the morn. 

There's music in the morn — 
From sky and grove and field and tree, 
Bursts forth the voice of harmony — 
The lark thro' depths of air is skimming, 
His matin descant wildly hymning — 
The linnet, from the budding spray, 
Is warbling forth his early lay, 
While vocal are the field and grove, 
With blackbird, thrush and plaintive dove — 

There's music in the morn. 



135 



There's quiet in the morn — 
The stream glides smooth and peaceful by, 
The noiseless smoke ascends the sky. 
From hall and hamlet, where the air 
Is fragrant with the breath of pray'r — 
The silent buds their leaves unclose 
Where bursts to life the new born rose, 
And 'midst the calm to nature given, 
The dew escapes unseen to heaven — 
There's quiet in the morn. 



Co Hftarg, 



Upon the wild unstable wave 

Thou art, removed from home and me, 
And all the past of promise gave, 

Hath blighted been by destiny — 
The fell corrosion of disease 

Hath seized upon that radiant form, 
And thou its anger to appease 

Hast dared the main, and faced the storm. 

How changed art thou, and yet the same ! 

The hollow cheek, the sunken eye, 
The tremors of that fragile frame 

Betray the lurking enemy, 
That riots on thy youthful heart, 

And blanches all thy forehead fair, 
While day by day, in grief depart 

The clusters that were sporting there ! 

Yet thou canst smile and calmly gaze 

Upon thy state, unchanged in soul, 
The shadow of thyself in days 

That long have ceased to dawn and roll — 
And from their skies, reflected gleams 

Of joy are thrown upon thy mind 
So oft of ev'ning's sun, the beams 

Are left in radiance rich behind. 



TO MARY. 

So lovely, and belov'd ! that thou, 

Shouldst know thus soon of stern decay, 
And bright in youth and promise, bow 

Beneath the spoiler's sov'reign sway — 
That health, and hope, and joy, and bloom 

Awhile should flourish but to fade, 
And be upon thy shrine, oh tomb ! 

The only grateful off 'ring laid ! 

Life ! life ! thou art at brightest, best, 

A stormy, rough, and heaving sea, 
And wrecks are strewn upon thy breast 

Of joy, and fair felicity ! — 
Tho' calm thy waves at times appear, 

And gentle gales upon them breathe, 
Yet tempests oft, are shrieking there, 

And fatal rocks lie hid beneath. 

And barks that once in conscious pride, 

With streamers and expanded sails, 
Were floating o'er thy surface wide, 

Borne onward by the fav'ring gales, 
When o'er the vault of Heav'n was cast 

The pall of blackness, wrath and gloom > 
Have shipwreck made — the howling blast 

Hath whelmed them in oblivious doom ! 

I view thee as I saw thee first, 

And then as now thou seem'st to be. 

Till thro' my grief- worn bosom burst 
The thrills of hopeless agony !• 



138 TO MARY. 

Yes, Mary !— when I think of thee, 

Of love— and home— and youthful dreams, 
The earth is desolate to me, 

And life, a life of darkness, seems ! 

Upon the wave, upon the wave 

Thou art, removed from ev'ry tie, 
Where breezes moan, and billows rave, 

And angry frowns the threat'ning sky, 
Yet on the deep, and 'midst the storm 

To thee shall oft remembrance stray, 
And pray'rs be wafted pure and warm, 

To greet thee on thy lonely way. 

And when thy feet returning press 

The hearth that thou hast often cheered, 
The joyous smile, the fond caress 

Shall prove thee more and more endeared. 
And gath'ring round, shall cheer thy hours, 

Hearts throbbing with affection true, 
And wreathe thee in their native bow'rs 

Thou blossom of the fading hue ! 



Co Miv%* 



The memory of the past how sweet :— 
When earth was trod by youthful feet, 
And youthful minds and fancies drew 
Each object in its brig-litest hue — 
How fair the sky above was drest, 
With light clouds floating on its breast, 
Intense in splendor beam'd the sun, 
Careering- in his glory on, 
And when he sunk at daylight's close 
In ocean's lap, to sweet repose, 
How g-leam'd upon the western heaven 
The soft and ling'ring- hues of even ; 
And token gave that orient morn, 
With light and lustre would be born, 
To beam around, and to impart 
Its gladness to the eye and heart- 
How fresh the morrow seem'd! — how guy — 
How soon the morrow passed away ! — 
Day after day wing'd on its flight, 
Day after day was quenched in night, 
While slumber gave the fancy free 
To roam thro' wild variety ! 

In these fond days when all was bloomim 
The mind its native pow'rs assuming, 



140 TO MIRA. 

Sketch'd its young- feelings, and along 
Thus pour'd the op'ning tide of song. 

I. 

Oh they may say the world is dark, and filled with pain 

and wo, 
That joy and gladness are unknown — I have not found it 

so — 
But it has seem'd a sunny orb, where all we know of pain, 
Is overbalanced far and wide, by joy's enduring reign. 

II. 

I've rose on many a cloudy morn when skies were over- 
cast, 
And yellow leaves came flitting down upon the fitful blast, 
But ere the noon had hastened on, or ere the day went by, 
The Sun came laughing at the storm abroad upon the sky. 

III. 

And clouds that frown'd so late before, were deck'd in 

glowing smiles, 
And seem'd upon a sea of blue, an hundred golden isles, 
Where happy spirits might repose, and all their hours 

employ, 
In show'ring blessings down on man, and revelling in joy. 

IV. 

And I have known, when murky thoughts descended in 

their might, 
And all the sunshine bright of mind was turning into 

night, 



TO MIR A. 141 

The morning 1 star of Hope to beam, upon the bosom's 

gloom, 
And token true to give, that day was nigh with light and 

bloom. 

V. 

That wo will shroud and pain afflict, at times, I can't 

deny, 
And gloomy views come o'er the mind, and wide upon 

the sky, 
But half the woes the bosom feels, oft from itself arise, 
And heav'n's fair face is veil'd in clouds, for purposes full 

wise. 

VI. 

If yonder dome that shines above, were ever blue and 

bright, 
'Twould soon become devoid of charms, and pall upon the 

sight, 
And if upon its azure breast, no more the clouds were seen, 
Why, nature would withhold her fruits, and doff her 

mantle green. 

VII. 

So if upon the mind's expanse no grief or pain should 

move, 
'Twould sink in lethargy full soon, and quite forget to 

love, 
And joy would be a name indeed, and sympathy unknown, 
And man be plodding on thro' time, uncared for and alone, 



142 TO MIEA. 

VIII. 

Then let them say the world is dark, and filled with pain 

and wo, 
That joy and gladness are unknown — I will not own it so — 
For it has seent'd a sunny orb, where all we know of pain, 
Is overbalanced far and wide by joy's enduring- reign. 

Thus sang 1 the muse in earlier hours, 
Thus scattered round her choicest flow'rs, 
To deck of life the vernal bow'rs ! 

E'en while I write, the visions blest 

Of other days, are o'er my breast, 

And they appear so bright and plain 

I almost seem a child again — 

The school with all its murm'ring noise, 

The after play : — the sportive joys, 

The welcome home ; the beaming smile ; 

The fond enquiries urged the while; 

The visits round to all who share 

The schoolboy's heart, are glowing there! — 

Anon there come with influence sweet 

The hours that we were wont to meet, 

Cornelia ! when 'twas thine to give them 

A charm, for which 'twas life to live them ! — 

As thus I muse serene and calm, 

Upon my heart there steals a balm 

So soothing, that I loathe to break, 

The spell, or from its pow'r awake. 

And Mira ! thou, (for thou canst feel,) 
Hast felt at times ^uch visions steal 



143 



Across thy soul, and lull to sleep 
The woes that daily watchings keep, 
At the heart's portals, lest by chance 
A joy should una wares advance, 
To claim an entrance or to find 
A nestling- place within the mind. 
Came they not o'er thee, like the breeze 
Fraught deep with odor, that from trees 
Of fruit are borne, when in the spring- 
In fragrance, they are blossoming. 
And birds are perching on the limbs, 
While heav'n-ward rise their joyous hymns, 
And the whole scene with joy is rife, 
And light and liberty and life ! 

Could'st thou not then with me, repeat 
The memory of the past is sweet ! 



Sonnet to t%t 4M& gUiiloto. 

How wide thy branches spread around, and throw 
Their leafy arms above me : — scarce the sun 
Can gain an entrance, till his race be done, 
And westward far he sinks— then, all the glow 
Of sunset bursts beneath thee, and thy leaves, 

If haply wet with showr's, seem clad in gems 
Of more than mortal splendor — round their stems 
Are brilliants hung, and Fancy, apt, conceives 
A diamond tree, spontaneous from the earth, 

Bearing its pearls unsought : — Ah ! now, how vain 
The alchymist's deep study to obtain 
Gems not so pure, nor of as heavenly birth ! — 
But these are Poet's pearls — the only ones 
They cancel debts with, or can give the duns ! 



©t)e ©uttsst 



"As parent of his being wouldst thou prove 
The unnatural parent of his miseries ?" 

I would not once have thought, that thou 

Couldst thus delight to rend in twain 
My youthful heart, and on my brow 

To set the seal of grief and pain — 
To sever all the binding ties 

Which nature formed within my breast. 
Ties heav'n descended ! — from yon skies, 

That speak of peace, and love and rest ! 

But I, though young, have sadly learned 

Of changing skies, and withering blights ; 
Of faded hopes — affections turned — 

Of gloomy days, and restless nights 
Alas ! that thus the guileless heart 

Of youth, and innocence and bliss, 
Should from its pristine state depart 

To know a lot so drear as this ! 

Thou couldst, and every pulse is keen 
With anguish, while I thus relate, 

Bring in this changing chequered scene 
Of dark and wild eventful fate, 

13* 



146 THE OUTCAST. 

A being 1 helpless and forlorn, 

And teach it round thy heart to cling- 
Then dash it from thee as in scorn — 

An useless vile disgusting* thing ! 

Oh ! say, is this the love that Heaven 

Infused in the maternal breast ? 
That breast which unto man was given 

To be the pillow of his rest — 
To lull his infant woes, and calm 

His wayward sorrows down to peace, 
And be a solace and a balm, 

When all beside to soothe shall cease ! 

No, surely not — then where art thou ? 

Or rather, say where is the love, 
That once so brightly shone — but now 

Hath darkness round, beneath, above ! 
Extinguished — gone ! — Its lambent light 

Flamed high, and promise gave awhile, 
Then flared and flickered, till in night 

Was quenched its last expiring smile ! 

How cold thy bosom now, and dark ! 

Affection far away hath flown — 
And o'er the sea of life thy barque 

Shall hold its devious course alone — 
Uncheer'd by all the joys that smile 

Upon the smooth domestic path, 
But there shall darkly be the while 

A threat'ning deep— a sky in wrath ! 



THE OUTGAST. 147 

Yes ; — thou shall feel in after years 

The pangs thou hast awakened now— 
And they shall wring- thy soul to tears. 

And cloud in anguish deep, thy brow ! 
And thou shalt turn unto the past, 

As if to gather comfort there ; 
But it shall low'r in gloom, and cast 

On thee the mantle of despair ! 

And when the hour that fate ordains 

Shall come, when earth's bright glories flee, 
Thy all of thought that then remains, 

Shall wander back to fix on me — 
And sad will be the view, and drear 

Thy every action shall arise, 
And stand revealed, and frown severe 

Like troubled ghosts, before thine eyes ! 

In that dread hour, what depth of gloom 

Shall shroud thee, agonized and lone— 
When wakened conscience shall resume 

Her reign — once lost— then, all her own ! 
Of soaring hope, of raptures true, 

Of gladness there shall be instead, 
A fearful glance the future thro' — 

A shrinking from the moments fled ! 

There never moved upon my soul 

An adverse thought to thee or thine— 

My every word thou might'st control, 
And almost every thought divine — 



148 THE OUTCAST. 

But thou hast sundered all that bound 

Me fast to home — its hearth — and thee ; 

And prostrate dashed upon the ground 
My fabric of felicity ! 

I go : — with firm determined mind, 

From future pain and wo to flee 
But yet the pray'r I leave behind, 

The latest — last — is still for thee — 
That when that form to clay resigned 

A banquet for the worms shall be, 
Thou mayst from Heaven that mercy find 

Thou hast so oft denied to me ! 



3 Tis many a day, since I have tried 
To cast my business cares aside, 
And rhyme away a vacant hour 
Beneath the Muse's' kindliest power : 
For her brig-lit smiles will only shine 
On hearts that worship at her shrine, 
Nor will she to the sons of gain, 
Dispense the favors of her reign : 
No hearts must beat in lightsome mood, 
And anxious cares be all subdued : 
The bosom, warm with life, must own 
The reign of hope and joy alone : 
The meaner passions be at rest 
In their dark cells, ere, in the breast, 
Her banner will be wide unfurled, 
To make it seem a " happy world " 

And 'tis a happy world ! dost doubt ? 
Then listen, till I make it out. 
My cousin fair, are not the skies 
Clad constant in bright liveries ? 
Are not the gorgeous clouds by day, 
Is not, by night, the milky way, 
Are not the stars, that host of gems 
Their ever shining diadems ? 



150 TO MY COUSIN LYDIA. 

The stars are happy : for they roll 

Rejoicing-, onward to the goal, 

Ordained by Heaven, they should attain, 

Then, smiling-, they commence again. 

If they were not so, would they seem 

Bright always as a Poet's dream ? 

Would they not close their peerless eyes 

In their soft ramble thro' the skies, 

And pine, and seem to droop away 

Like beings shut from light of day ? 

Now, well thou knowest, that, night by night 

They pour full radiance on the sight, 

Compose the troubled soul that gazes 

Quick as his eye he upward raises, 

And lead the mind to calmer tone 

By unknown witchery of their own. 

These then are happy : from their birth 
They always were so : — If to earth 
We now direct our view we will 
Find the same happy spirit still — 
Her robe of green, her countless flow'rs, 
Are tokens sure of gladsome hours, 
For ne'er in sullen mood, would she 
Have hung such wreaths on flow'r and tree, 
Have called to life such num'rous choirs 
To charm her realm with native lyres — 
Have scattered thro' the ambient air, 
Each fragrance, sweetly floating there. 
No ! all bespeak a joyous heart, 
That would its happiness impart. 



TO MY COUSIN LYDIA. 151 

Would charm the senses, as the eye 
Roams thro' each fond variety ! 
Who can be sad, and wander forth, 
In spring- time, mid the flow'rs of earth ? 
When blue above are sunny skies, 
And round an endless verdure lies — 
Will not the buoyant heart be light 
As moves each charm before the sight 
Will not the conscious bosom swell, 
With raptures, it can scarcely tell 
From whence their birth, but only feel 
Their influence o'er the feelings steal ? 
Yes ! 'tis the spirit bright of bliss, 
That walks the earth in hours like this— 
It gives the skies their sunny sheen — 
It gives the earth its mantle green — 
It paints the flow'rs that stud the fields 
In every hue that nature yields, 
It glides into the human breast, 
And wakes the loveliest, and the least, 
Of all emotions planted there, 
By bodying forth, the picture fair, 
Of nature, in her vernal glee 
Of life and love and liberty ! 

Since thus the skies with smiles are crowned^ 
And Nature spreads her charms around, 
Shall Heaven who made them both, deny 
The joyous smile, and beaming eye, 
To man, for whom yon lamps are burning, 
And spring in annual dance returning ? 
No ! — since to him alone, were given 
Such varied gifts of bounteous Heaven, 



TO MY COUSIN LYDIA, 

Since for his eye, yon lights are glowing. 
Since for his joy, yon fiow'rs are blowing", 
Could Heaven, in all its ways mean less 
For him, than full crowned happiness ? — 
And man is happy : — see him view 
Yon overshadowing 1 vault of blue 5 
See, as he throws his vision far 
Across the heavens, from star to star, 
From thence to earth, where, fair and free 
The multiplied variety 
Of gath'ring objects lure his sight 
To wander on in mute delight, 
Back in his breast reflected glow, 
Such joys as happy spirits know, 
And Heaven thus proves him, meant to be 
A being of felicity ! 
****** 

Does Bausey, think you, feel the blues, 
As he his onward course pursues 
To where Montgomery's Peggy 'bides ? — 
No ! — thro' his inmost spirit glides 
Full many a dream of future bliss 
In days, not distant far, from this, 
When, all his own, she'll sit beside 
His native home, his lov'd fireside, 
And shed her smiles to cheer away 
The cloudiest, coldest winter's day- 
Think you, the Squire too, feels his breast 
With aught but life and joy impressed, 
As weekly, twice, he makes him ready 
To sec his up-town Eutaw Lady ? — 



TO MY COUSIN LYDIA. 153 

If they meet wo, or, meeting-, mind it, 
They surely journey far to find it, 
When home-made griefs are all at hand, 
And plenty, at their own command — 
No ! — in the breast of each, there blooms 
An antidote to blues and glooms, 
The rose of Hope that's always blowing, 
Perennial fragrance round bestowing : — 
And flow'rs of joy too, blossom high, 
And px'omise nevermore to die ! 

Since 'tis a happy world — if here, 
It surely must be every where — 
And midst the joyous beings round 
Than thou, be none more happy found , 



" I'st not enough to vox our souls, 
And 1111 our eyes, that we have sli 

Our hearts upon a rose'b leaf 

Our love upon a \iolet"— Hood. 



Awhile to thee — mine idol once — 

I wake the careless strain ; 
And speak of joys, by magic pow't 

Transmuted into pain ! — 
Of feelings warm, that did not deem 
Youth's bright path, an enchanted dream, 

Ne'er to recur again — 
Or that its buoyant hopes and high, 
Were painted clouds on summer's sky ! 

II. 

Yet such is life — and he who fain 

Would try the devious road, 

May find, that o'er its early path, 

Some buds of joy are strow'd — 
These bloom but for awhile, to fade, 
And soon their sere leaves and decayed, 

Sweep round his lone abode, 
Borne on that blast, which pain op crirw 
Hath wakened, in the land of Time ! 



155 



III. 

In other years, thy name might be 

A chief and potent spell, 
To call my spirit forth to joy, 

From out its lonely cell, 
Where long- it lov'd to brood, and bear 
Alone, those sorrows none would share, 

Nor it would dare to tell — 
Oft hath thy pow'r, unknown to thee, 
Then waked its early energy ! 

IV. 

Alas ! that this dull song should be 

A picture of the past ! — 
But thou art changed ! — I should have known 

Such pleasure could not last ! — ■ 
There was too much of fair and bright, 
Too much of spiritual light, 

Upon my being cast ! — 
Such joys, their own extinction show 
And warn the heart of coming wo ! 

V. 

The fairest meteor light, is seen 

Beside the treacherous path ; 
And when yon bright bolt cleaves the sky, 

Then clouds are dark in wrath : — 
And all that speaks the surest reign 
Of human hope, but omens pain, 

Such lot the spirit hath ! — 
But who, from being's fair as thee, 
Coidd dream to learn of misery ! 



VI. 

Where are the charms, in which I clress'd 

Thy soul, in days agone ? — 
And where the nameless grace that dwelt 

Upon thy speaking 1 tone ? — 
I gaze on thee, as oft of yore, 
Yet feel I, in my breast, no more 

The sense that it hath known— 
The thrilling sense of earlier years, 
Of pleasures unsubdued by tears ! 

VII. 

And often, at the noon of night, 

When nature round me sleeps, 
And not a living thing, save I, 

Its waking vigil keeps ; 
The past comes bright upon my soul, 
And then, such tides of sorrow roll, 

I envy him who weeps : — 
For long since, hath the fount been dry 
That used to bathe mine aching eye ! 

VIII. 

But words are futile — I too long 

Have nursed these thoughts of mine :- 
With too intense an homage knelt 

At an ideal shrine : — 
And now I tear myself away, 
And pluck the image down, to-day, 

That yesterday, was thine ! — 
And wake me up again to woes, 
From slumbers of a false repose ! 



TO 

IX. 

Part we in peace : — for I may now 

No useless lesson learn ; 
And thou shalt teach in after time, 

For what my soul may yearn — 
Not for the frail bright thing's of clay, 
Lest haply, at no distant day, 

The feelings may return, 
That wring my bosom, now, I tell 
The keen yet simple fare thee well ! 



157 



Uinc* 



TO THE MEMORY OF ELIZABETH LEGGETT : 

Who died in the City of New York, 25th January, 1835. 

Through the ties that entwined thee, tho' painful to sever, 
Thou hast burst ; and the skies are thy dwelling- forever ! 

Around thy low couch, there was weeping 1 and wailing 1 , 
While Seraphs, thine entrance to Eden, were hailing — 
" Come away ; come away ; thou art passing the portal 
" Of sorrow and time — thon art now, an Immortal ! — 
" In the land of the seasons autumnal and vernal, 
" There is change — but from henceforth, thy joys arc 

eternal, — 
" Here, the silver-hued moon is not waxing nor waning, 
" Nor the sun, his bright splendor is losing and gaining, 
•' But a full tide of glory, refulgent, is swelling 
" From the Throne, where the Ancient of Days hath his 

dwelling ! — 
c< Thou shalt join with the lov'd ones, who entered before 

thee — 
'' Who were not left behind, upon earth, to deplore thee— 
" Where anguish comes not — nor repenting, nor sinning, 
" Where the years have no end, nor the days a beginning 
"Come away; come away; thou art passing the portal 
" Of sorrow and time— thou art now, an Immortal !" 



LINES, 159 

Such sounds seemed (in vision,) to break on mine ear, 

As I saw thy lov'd kindred encircle thy bier ; 

And the view, in my bosom, beamed clear as the day, 

As the clod tumbled down on thy pillow of clay ; 

And me thought, as the weeping- grew longer and loud, 

That the gloom of the grave, and the pall, and the shroud, 

Were to tliem, the dark symbols of sorrow and blight, 

But to thee, were the pathway to mansions of light ! — 

So we weep, when a dark heap of ruins is made 

Of the home, where the feet of our childhood have played, 

Though a far fairer mansion rise up in its place, 

And be crowned with more beauty, and lightness, and 

grace ! — 
Though the morning, no more, break in freshness for 

thee — 
Nor the noon beam in brightness, o'er meadow and lea — 
Nor the twilight and pensiveness come with the even — 
Nor the moon hang her urn of soft light, in the heaven — 
What of these ?— thou hast left them without a regret, 
For the land that thou liv'st in, is lovelier yet ; 
And the ear hath not heard, and the eye may not see 
The glories that wait us, if gathered with thee 7 

But say, from thy calm place of brightness, above, 
If to spirits, be given mortality's love, 
Does a ray of remembrance steal backward to earth, 
To revisit the desolate home of thy birth ? 
Where thy father, whose locks are now blanching with 

years, 
Proves again, that he treads a dark valley of tears— 
And thy mother, of comfort bereft, and dismayed, 
Still deplores the sad void which thine absence hath made; 



160 LINES. 

That in thee, the Decree of Decay is reversed, 
And the child who should follow, hath faded the first I 
May He heal up the wounds of the parents who mourn, 
" Who tempers the wind to the lamb that is shorn," 
And whisper thy kindred, by tones of His voice 
That are quiet, and clear, and convincing-, " rejoice"! 
And impress on their minds, both of aged and youth, 
With his signet of love, this unchangeable truth, 
If they walk with an hunble dependence and trust, 
In the highway of Holiness, marked for the just, 
When a few fleeting seasons their courses have rolled, 
The once scattered flock shall come home to the fold, 
Where the weary from trouble, are centered in rest, 
And the wicked no longer the soul may molest ! 

Bright maiden, farewell ! — On a far distant shore, 
Where thy footsteps have wandered, in moments of yore 
There are those who remember the mildness and grace, 
That dwelt in thy movements, thy form, and thy face — 
There are those who can feel for the bosoms that yearn 
For the daughter who went, but who will not return — 
Who would not let thee pass from the beings that live, 
Without the faint tribute that friendship may give — 
Who, if for a moment, thy lot could be theirs, 
Would scorn this cold earth with its cankering cares ; 
Would quit the bright sun— the dominions of day — 
And soar, with the wing of an eagle, away ! 

Through the ties that entwined thee, tho' painful to sever, 
Thou hast burst j and the skies are thy dwelling forever ! 






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